Love and War
by StillAMinx
Summary: Sookie is happily mated to Quinn and her life finally seems safe... until Eric comes back to reclaim his bonded, and she faces the biggest threat to her freedom yet. Sequel to "A Lover and a Fighter" & "Goodbye, My Lover." Set post DAG.
1. Imprinting

_Author's note: This is the sequel to my previous fics, "Goodbye, My Lover" and "A Lover and a Fighter." It makes more sense if you read those first ;) _

_(Click on my name above and you'll find them on my author page.)_

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At 3am, I woke to the feel of soft lips against my neck and fingertips gliding over my bare skin. A very hot male body was pressed against my back, already hard and mine for the taking. Perfect.

"Are you awake?" I asked Quinn, grinding back against him as my hands began to wander of their own accord.

"Of course," he breathed in my ear. "Tiger instincts, remember? If there's a chance I could be making love to you, there's no way I can sleep. Or eat. Or think."

My libido did a happy dance, thrilled by his response.

I grinned and rolled over to kiss him. "I could get so used to this," I murmured.

It had been maybe four hours since we last made love, but we were both imprinting (something that happens when shifters become mated), so it felt like an eternity. When our lips met, our bodies molded to one another and we both felt an overwhelming sense of relief. We were utterly driven to touch each other, feeling wonderful when we did and strangely edgy every second we didn't.

Our kiss was slow and deep, drawing us both into one another. We were lying side-by-side, face to face, tangled in each other's limbs. I was ready for him - had been since before I woke up - and all I wanted to do was take him one more time, to sate my appetite so I could get some more rest.

"What do you want, babe?" he asked softly. His talented fingers toyed with an aching nipple as he spoke, making me gasp.

"You," I answered dreamily. "Just you."

I wasn't looking for athletics or novelty this time, I just needed him within me. I wanted the simplest, purest union we could have, so there was no distraction from what was happening between us. The imprinting was shaping us each to the other, honing our mating instincts so that, by the time it was done, we would each recognize only the other as our mate.

I pushed him onto his back and he moved willingly, pulling me atop his naked body. I leaned over to find a condom in the nightstand beside the bed, and he helped me get it in place before I went any further. I still wasn't used to them – I'd never needed them with either of my previous lovers, vampires being both infertile and disease-proof – but where my hands fumbled, his were sure and steady.

I kissed him again, sliding my body against his for a few moments, letting him feel how ready I was. He was in no hurry; was never in any hurry; always wanted to make it last so he could spend as much time as possible lavishing attention on my body. He had really drawn things out last time, bringing me to my peak four times before he finally slid inside me and found his own release. I wasn't going to give him the chance to tease me for so long again... well, not this time, anyway.

I reached back to line us up just so, then slid back onto him. It felt indescribably right; a home-coming of sorts. I knew this was one of the effects of the imprinting, that each time we were together it would feel more and more right, but I surprised myself by not minding at all. The feelings between us were real and it was in both of our natures to be faithful, so this was something that could be very right for both of us.

We rocked together, joined at lips and hips, our bodies pressed together to keep the skin-to-skin contact we both so desperately needed. When he told me we'd both want to have sex every second of the day while we were imprinting, I didn't expect this. I pictured us rutting like animals, pounding each other's bodies wildly. Instead, I was astonished by the tenderness between us, the overwhelming affection that was driving our couplings at least as much as the ever-present mutual lust. When I mentioned that to him earlier, he laughed heartily and told me most animals were capable of at least as much love and tenderness as humans are, and I soon realized he was right.

The slow, steady movement built pressure in my belly gradually, as though we had forever to get there and no need to hurry. I could feel his desire to please me first, the effort he was making to grind our bodies together just the way I liked, to keep his hips at just the right angle so I would receive the stimulation he knew would push me over the edge. There was pride and ego tied up in his need to satisfy me, but mostly love. It made him happy to make me happy, so it was easy to let go and accept what he offered. My first peak washed over me then, barely interrupting our rhythm with my gentle shudders of delight.

"Good?" he whispered in the dark, needing to hear aloud what my body had already told him.

"Perfect," I murmured, kissing him again.

A few minutes more and I felt him straining to hold back, chanting _notyet notyet notyet_ silently to himself. His hands roamed my body frantically, testing every sensitive spot to see what would take me to another peak. I wasn't nearly as concerned as he was that I get there again; it felt wonderful the whole time he was inside me and I'd lost count of how many orgasms he'd given me the day before, so to me, it wasn't especially important this time. But to him, it was everything; to him, there was no point doing this unless he satisfied me completely. I smiled and shook my head about his masculine pride, giggling at him.

My giggles made my muscles grip around him and he almost lost control; almost finished right that second. I slowed my movements and pressed my hands against his face, slipping into his mind as I did. I felt the tightness, the pressure, the need he was fighting, and marveled once more at his self control. He realized what I was doing and finally let go, allowing himself to climax at last. I felt his body pumping inside me, the relief as the desperate ache in his balls was finally released. Feeling his enjoyment of my body gave me the little extra push I needed and I came with him, gasping at the sensory overload of feeling his orgasm as well as mine.

When my body stopped twitching and shaking, I lay limp on his chest with my hands beneath his shoulders so I could hold him even closer to me. He was cuddling me, stroking my back and purring softly against my ear. I was asleep again in under a minute, drifting into unconsciousness as he softened inside me.

* * *

When I woke again a few hours later I was alone in my bed, but wonderful aromas filled the air. Bacon, eggs, tomatoes, toast, coffee... was that mushrooms as well? Whatever it was, it smelled great.

I sat up to yawn and stretch, and he must've heard me from the other room.

_Sorry I left you to wake up alone, _he told me silently._ The things you were saying in your sleep... I'm pretty sure I know what you were dreaming about, and if you ever want to do that for real, count me in... I really have to stop thinking about it, though... damn imprinting..._

I could feel the sexual frustration in his thoughts and giggled. I couldn't remember what I dreamed about, but whatever I was talking about in my sleep had him in quite a state; he seemed almost bothered enough to hump the stove for relief.

I got up and shrugged on my robe so I could leave the bedroom without flashing Amelia, who was surely already up since I'd slept rather late.

In the kitchen, I found Quinn at the stove, clad only in a pair of navy boxers. I paused in the doorway, enjoying the view for as long as I could before he realized I was there. My eyes traced every muscle on his beautifully-formed body, pausing for some time on his tight, high backside. As delectable as he looked, I knew the view was ever better when he was naked.

He knew I was there; I could hear that in his thoughts. He also knew I was checking him out; he could smell my reaction to him, even through the wonderful food smells that pervaded the whole house. I could tell that made him very, very happy; his brain waves were in the pattern I expected from a person wearing a huge grin on their face.

I padded into the kitchen and wrapped my arms around his waist, pressing my face against his back as he cooked breakfast.

"Morning, gorgeous," he greeted me, making his chest rumble against my ear.

"Mmmm," I murmured back, "this smells amazing."

I wasn't entirely sure what I was referring to; the food on the stove, or the delicious musky man smell filling my nostrils.

"I'd offer to bring you breakfast in bed, but I'd be way too tempted to jump you, so we should probably eat out here."

"Sure," I agreed absent-mindedly, my hands working their way over his chest and stomach, lightly scratching the hard muscles. As I got to the waistband of his shorts, I followed it across, digging my fingernail in deeper. He growled loudly in response.

An instant later, my belly was pressed flat to the countertop, my toes barely touching the ground. He had my robe pushed up to expose my ass and a finger tracing my wet opening, while he pressed his erection hard against one buttock.

"Tell me if you don't want this," he whispered hoarsely in my ear. "Tell me to stop."

I shook my head emphatically, trying in vain to push back against him. "I want," I growled. "Get a condom."

He was gone for maybe two seconds and was back before I could complain, pushing his fingers inside me. _Please be ready, pleasepleaseplease be ready,_ he was thinking. I was. I gave up all pretense of civility and flopped forward onto the counter, pushing my ass as high in the air as I could and whimpering for him to take me. He leaned forward until his chest was pressed against my back, his breath hot in my ear.

"Amelia's just out back doing tai chi," he rasped. "She could walk back in at any moment and catch us. Do you still want me?"

"Please," I moaned, and he was inside me before the word was fully out of my mouth.

He was as slow and gentle as he could manage in such a state of excitement, which is to say, neither slow nor gentle at all. With each insistent stroke, he angled himself down at just the right moment, pressing hard on the spot I liked best. I grunted each time he did, pushing my ass up in the air to meet him as he plunged into me, over and over. His hands plundered my body, one roughly squeezing a breast while the other mashed my clit rhythmically. I was in heaven, loving the way he pushed my body right to its limits... and then right over the edge.

"Close," he grunted in my ear after a couple minutes. "Too close. Come for me. Now. Please," he whined the last word, then whined it again.

My body did just what he wanted, clutching and shuddering at his request. A moment later, my mind was awash with electricity as he came with me, whimpering "oh oh oh" in my ear softly as he did. The waves of pleasure rolling through me felt like they would never stop, like they would drown me before I could come up for air, and when they finally subsided, I was grinning like a maniac.

We stayed there for a few moments longer, and I savored the feel of him sandwiching me against the cool kitchen bench. Then he pulled out and turned me around, stroking my face tenderly and carefully studying my expression to check I was OK. I was more than OK; I felt fantastic. I reached my arms up around his neck and pulled him down to kiss me good morning.

He lifted me up to sit on the bench, carefully smoothing my robe under me as he did, so I was covered up again. He neatened the neckline as well, straightening out the part that had been pushed to one side when his hand slid under it. Closer to his height now, I kept kissing him languorously as he stood between my knees, quickly cleaning up with a paper towel so he could cover himself back up. He broke away from me for only a second, to toss the paper towel and its contents in the trash, then went right back to kissing me tenderly.

"This imprinting thing is so great," I murmured playfully against his lips.

He pulled back then, to stare at me adoringly. "Best thing that's ever happened to me," his voice quavered with emotion. "You know I want this, right? Imprinting to you, being your mate... I know it was an accident, but I'm happy it's happening."

I smiled and nodded. "Me too," I agreed. I sure liked having a man who was all mine at last; especially one so smart and sexy and sweet.

Amelia walked in a moment later, and I was glad he had gotten us both decent again so quickly.

"Mmm, something smells good," she said. "And something smells like people have been fucking in the kitchen."

I blushed bright red, right on cue. Amelia laughed, thinking how fun it is to have an easily embarrassed roommate.

I slid off the counter as Quinn turned the stove back on to finish cooking breakfast, laughing and shaking his head at us.


	2. Bite

Quinn and I were sitting at my kitchen table, finishing our lunch while we held hands under the table, still craving contact with one another.

"So... this imprinting thing..." I began as soon as Amelia left for work. "It's like a shifter version of a blood bond, right?"

"No!" he exclaimed. "No, no. It's not a mystical bond at all, it's just a time when you adapt to a new mate really easily, nothing more. I would've told you by now if this was gonna attached part of your soul to me!"

I stared at him in horror. "Is that what a blood bond is?" I finally asked, my voice weak and wavering.

"Sure, how do you think Eric knows where you are and what you're feeling all the time? You're joined to him at the ethereal level of your being, which for humans and shifters is pretty much the same as your soul."

_Eric owns part of my soul?_ I felt like my mind was on the teacup ride at a funfair, spinning around so fast I wanted to vomit.

"Didn't you know?" he asked, seeing how horrified I was. "Didn't he tell you any of this?"

I shook my head sadly.

"Sorry, I just assumed he talked to you about it, or I would've told you sooner... What do you know about the blood bond?"

"Other than the stuff you told me yesterday about all the laws around them? Just that it messes with my feelings, makes me feel angry when he's pissed off, makes me feel happy and safe when he's nearby, makes me feel horny when he wants me to be, confuses what I feel about him, and I can't break the bond and get my own feelings back without killing him. I don't know if I'd love him at all if it weren't for the bond."

"It shouldn't make you love him, although it'll make whatever feelings you already had more intense. It's only meant to make you find him irresistibly attractive and feel compelled to obey him, but neither of those seemed to work on you," he grinned.

"What do you mean?" I sure found Eric irresistible, always had, even if I didn't feel any need whatsoever to obey him.

"You should've stopped having feelings for me entirely the instant the bond with him was formed, it's a pretty big thing that you didn't. It's how it's supposed to work, you're meant to want him and only him. But you went to bed with me the next morning, and even though we didn't do anything, you still seemed to find me attractive."

"I did," I confirmed.

"And he tried to glamor you that night to make you hand over that bomb you wouldn't let either of us take from you." He was still annoyed by the whole incident, thinking I should've let him protect me. "He shouldn't have had to glamor you, you should've felt compelled to do whatever he wanted, without him even asking. Maybe it just didn't work. He didn't seem to get any of the power over you that he was meant to, although his own rejection of the bond wouldn't have helped that at all."

"What do you mean?"

"Saying you were bound too tightly for his liking... I'm no expert on the mystical ins and outs of these things, but I've performed a bunch of bonding ceremonies for vampires. They'll tell you their blood does all the work, but they get so hung up on the ceremony being performed just right that it must be a lot more important than they want anyone to know. A vamp really isn't meant to say they dislike the bond when it's still settling; they're not even meant to mention their own _sexual enjoyment of the whole process_," he spat out darkly, remembering the tableau he came upon when I'd just been bonded to Eric. "There's this whole long speech they're supposed to make, accepting a human as their bonded and honoring your lifelong commitment to them. I mean, the big formal ceremony's only done when they bind a mate, which isn't often, and never with a human, but I've sent people out to help with serf bondings plenty of times, too. Even if it's done very quietly, they still want to get it right."

"Uh huh." It was too much for me to take in all at once.

"You sound like you find the bond with him really painful. Didn't he teach you how to use it?"

"Use it?" I wondered, unable to think of any scenario except tracking when a blood bond would be remotely useful.

"I'll take that as a no then. You were supposed to get lessons to help you adjust. Even serfs usually get one or two lessons, and they're meant to have their own personality overtaken by the bond. The joining is pretty tough on humans, so the vamp's meant to make sure you're taught how to have them in your head without going mad. Maybe he just assumed it wouldn't bother you, since you have other people's thoughts in your brain all the time."

"Not the same," I muttered.

"So you feel his feelings differently to anyone else's?"

"Yeah. Other people can't drown me out entirely, and they only get into the wordy part of my mind. I have to let shifters in a bit deeper to read them fully, but even then... it doesn't feel like their feelings are coming from deep inside me, the way his feelings get in and take over."

"OK, so the blood bond's been pretty awful for you, and you're worried that being mated to me will be just as bad."

I nodded and he continued.

"I'll get you some help with the blood bond, so it doesn't hurt you so much." He tucked a stray wisp of hair behind my ear tenderly as he spoke, then stilled himself to look deep into my eyes. "As for the imprinting, I don't think it's possible to stop it now, I've never heard of it being paused partway through. But it shouldn't hurt you the way the bond does, because it's something that's come from within you, not something that's been done to you. I know it must be hard, this happening to you without warning, but it really should work out OK. Shifters can only imprint like this because it's in our nature to mate for life. When we find the right person, we want to imprint to them, so all our mating instincts are directed towards them. On some level, that must be something you want, too, to have someone who's yours as long as they live.

"I already knew that I feel that way about you before this started, but for it to be happening at all, you must feel it towards me, too. The imprinting can't trigger naturally unless it's mutually wanted, so even if you weren't consciously aware of it, on some level you must've seen me as someone you could be with for life." His eyes searched my face, looking desperately for some confirmation that I felt for him what he felt for me, but I couldn't work out how to give that to him. "If there's anything about me that makes you think this won't work, now is the time for us to deal with that. I'm pretty sure I told you yesterday how the imprinting can change a person, how it can make subtle physical changes as well as all the psychological adaptation that happens, and if there are things you want to change about me -"

"No!" I shouted, horrified he could even think I would do that to him. "No, it's not like that, I just... I'm just freaked out by how much I need to touch you right now, is all. It's compulsive, and I don't like that. I like having a choice."

All morning, while Amelia tried to train me, my need to touch him was both a hassle and a nuisance. She was teaching me an important lesson - teleporting bricks around, as a first step to learning to teleport other people - but it was interrupted every ten or fifteen minutes because I couldn't go any longer without touching Quinn again. Each time, I found myself sitting in his lap before I had even realized I'd tuned out and started edging towards him. After I rubbed my skin against his for a minute or two, I was OK to continue with her lesson for a while, but the constant interruptions were annoying.

I still managed to learn how to teleport a stack of bricks with me, but I was also meant to learn to send a brick somewhere just by touching it. I lost a lot of them through inattention, and I could only hope I hadn't hurt somebody when a stray brick reappeared somewhere unexpected. I didn't like feeling so out of control; didn't like the involuntary urge to touch him that the imprinting had created in me. I also worried that it might be permanent, that I might keep doing this for the rest of my life.

"I'm really sorry about that," he apologized. "It's only this intense for the first week, then it'll ease off. I should've told you what would happen before we completed the ceremony, and I tried to hold back, but when you told me to say it... I wasn't sure if you knew about imprinting, but I want you as my mate so much that I couldn't stop myself." He radiated shame as he said it; mortified at what he had done. "I wanted to believe you were choosing me that way, so I just went with it, and now you feel like I've forced you into this. I'm so sorry."

I could feel his heart breaking in his chest as he said it; he somehow managed to sound steady and even, but on the inside, he was distraught. He wanted me to choose him willingly, and hated himself for taking my choice away - even though he hadn't.

"It's not like that, either," I admitted softly. "You haven't done anything wrong. When you told me about imprinting yesterday, how it makes mating for life easier by making two people adjust to one another and only want each other, it didn't sound bad. It sounded, well... perfect."

"Really?" His face lit up and he bounced in his chair a little, like a delighted child. "You could be OK with this?"

I nodded. "I told you to say it because I could feel that you were holding back, that there was some part of you that you hadn't given me yet, and I didn't like that. I wanted all of you. I was greedy and I got more than I bargained for, which I guess makes this all my fault," I half-joked, trying to lighten the mood.

"If this is all your fault," he replied intensely, "I'm going to thank you for it every day for the rest of my life."

Then he was all over me, his lips bruising mine, his arms holding me tightly, his body pressed against me, a hand tangling in my hair. It was exactly what I wanted, exactly what I needed. I was moaning and rubbing against him instantly, hungry for him. My whole body tingled, shocks of magic running through me whenever we touched.

Instincts I never knew I had screamed at me to accept him, to take the great gift he was offering me.

I pulled back from his lips and tossed my hair over my shoulder, then lowered my head to one side to offer him my neck.

"My mate," I whispered, bringing my throat to his lips.

He whined a little as he pushed away a stray lock of hair, giving him complete access to my neck. Then he was kissing every last inch of exposed skin, sending shivers of delight right through my body. The instinct that told me to do this had me expecting the feel of his teeth against my throat, pressing into my skin to show his power over me. His choice to kiss me instead told me I was his to love and pleasure, not his to command. When it came time to mark me, he sucked hard on my tender flesh to pull it into his mouth, bruising it gently. I had somehow gotten out of my chair and into his lap, my legs wrapped around him, and I found myself grinding against him, extremely aroused by his choice not to assert dominance over me.

"I won't mark you permanently unless you ask me to," he breathed as he finally pulled away from me. Then he did exactly as I had, offering his neck to me. "My mate," he repeated hoarsely, pressing his throat to my teeth.

My instincts told me this was unexpected, perhaps even unprecedented, but they also screamed at me to accept him. I leaned forward and started repeating what he had just done to me, planting soft kisses all over the tender, vulnerable flesh he offered me, but it wasn't setting us both on fire the way it had when he did this to me. Somehow, this wasn't what either of us wanted.

"What do your instincts tell you to do?" he asked, bringing his lips to my ear briefly.

I pulled back to look him in the eye. "Bite you," I answered. "Something's screaming in the back of my head that I should bite you, but it means something bad if I do that, doesn't it?"

He shook his head. "The tiger in me needs to be accepted as your mate, too."

It was all the permission I needed, and my mouth was back against his neck immediately. I nipped him playfully and suddenly everything was right between us. My gentle bites provoked the same delighted response in him as his soft kisses had in me, and I realized I was just giving him the tiger version of this, not asserting dominance over him. I was getting more and more excited by the feel of my teeth on his neck, and so was he.

When it came time to mark him, something bubbled up inside me, something bright and natural I'd been looking for all my life, without ever knowing I was. I opened my mouth wider and bit down more firmly, telling him that he was mine. I was shocked when my teeth slid right into his flesh, filling my mouth with his blood. I hadn't bitten down hard enough to break his skin, I was sure of that, and I certainly hadn't wrenched and torn his flesh the way I would have to, to draw blood like this.

His arms were tight around me and he was grinding against me, silently screaming _yes, please, more_. Part of me found it all hard to fathom, but instinct kept me frozen there, my teeth embedded in his flesh to hold him to me. We were grinding together furiously, and improbable as it seemed, the heat and wildness of his blood had me as aroused as I had ever been. He was growling and snarling in my ear, and I felt his shifter magic coming to the surface, as though he might change at any second.

When he moved one hand to my breast and squeezed the nipple roughly through my clothes, heat ran through my body and I knew I was about to come, just from grinding against him so furiously. Those same powerful instincts told me he had to get there at the exact moment I did, and I sent the silent command to him, _come now_. He did, taking me right over the edge with him as white-hot pleasure seared through both our bodies. I could feel the tendrils of magic snapping out into the room as shifter magic and fairy magic mixed, concentrated in that single focal point where my teeth held his neck, because everywhere else, fabric kept us apart.

My teeth felt hot and bright, sending powerful energy burning into his neck as my body spasmed and shuddered on top of him. How the nerves in my teeth could be making me orgasm as surely as the ones between my legs were, I didn't know, but I was enjoying it too much to think any further. I could feel how intensely he was coming underneath me, and that brought me another level of pleasure entirely. It was over in barely a minute, but I knew I would remember that climax for the rest of my life.

My head jerked back involuntarily as I finished, pulling my teeth from his neck. I stared in astonishment as his wounds healed before my eyes, much faster than a shifter would usually heal, and then my instincts told me to lick his neck clean. I lapped up his blood happily, and even though the human part of my brain told me this ought to be gross, I found his taste too pleasurable to stop. When I cleaned the last of it away, I instinctively pulled back to admire my mark.

There at the base of his neck was a clear, even, perfectly healed scar, exactly where my teeth had been a moment ago. White against his olive skin were two semi-circles of puncture marks. Each one was almost perfectly round, and they were spaced apart from each other as though there was a clear gap between each tooth.

It was a fairy bite.


	3. Marked

_How could I leave a fairy bite?_ I wondered. _I'm human, I don't have fairy teeth... do I?_

I slipped into Quinn's mind for a moment to see how I looked, worried about what I might find. Sure enough, I had sharp, pointed little fairy teeth, still dripping with his blood. _Ew_, thought the human part of me, but the fairy part thought, _Yum_. Even more disturbingly, I was also glowing. Maybe only one-tenth as brightly as Niall did, but still enough to light the whole kitchen.

"Your true form," Quinn murmured admiringly, stroking my face while he thought how beautiful I was.

I studied what he saw, and quickly realized that I didn't look entirely like a fairy - my ears weren't pointed and I was roughly the same size and shape as always. I was something in between, a human with the fine, luminous skin and pointed teeth of a fairy, plus the shiniest hair I had ever seen. It was only a shade paler than usual, but it shone like diamonds. Altogether, it wasn't an unpleasant-looking transformation, despite the scary teeth... and the damage I'd just done to his neck with them.

I glanced up at Quinn and finally noticed he didn't look fully human right now, either. His jaw had distorted to accommodate long tiger fangs, and he had bright amber cat's eyes instead of pansy purple human eyes. I stared at him for a moment, amazed that he could change so much, but somehow look exactly the same to me. Seeing him like this had alarmed me once, but now it just felt normal and right.

"My true form," he grumbled, swishing his tiger tail behind him like an angry cat. He thought he looked hideous; monstrous even.

I laughed that he could think that, my mirth tinkling around the room like pealing bells, then leaned in and kissed him. It took me a few seconds to navigate my way around his fangs - they were three or four inches long, and differently shaped to a vampire's - but I soon discovered that if I pressed my jaw firmly against them, I could move my lips and tongue freely without getting scratched by the sharp, pointed tips. I kissed him long and deep, feeling him tremble beneath me at the unexpected pleasure.

When I finally pulled back, he was looking at me like I was a saint. To him, my greedy kiss was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him, and he was too moved to put his thanks into words. Still, I had to talk to him about what I'd just done - and I was pretty sure that by then end of it, he wouldn't be pleased with me at all.

I traced the new scar on his neck with my fingertips. "Um, I left a mark," I confessed. "A scar, actually. A very noticeable one."

"Really?" he asked excitedly, before I could get to apologizing.

He picked us both up out of the chair, quickly carrying me into my bedroom with my legs wrapped around him. He stopped in front of my dressing table, setting me down on it gently so he could study his neck in the mirror.

I glanced over my shoulder to see my reflection, checking out my fairy form briefly. I wasn't quite as gorgeous as he thought I was, but I still wasn't a bad looking fairy, I decided, then turned my attention back to him.

I expected him to be furious with me, or at least upset, but he wasn't. He grinned at his reflection, tracing the teeth marks with his fingertips, happily thinking _oh boy_, _oh boy_, over and over. Looking more closely at them, they didn't look like regular scars; they were lit from within like my skin, albeit very faintly, and they sparkled a little, like my hair did. They were actually almost pretty, if you ignored the way they got there.

The air around him shimmered and he shifted back to being fully human, watching the scars as he did. They stayed exactly the same, not changing a bit even as his body did. As he shifted, I felt the magic that rippled around him pull at me. I felt my body wanting to shift, and in fairy form, I could feel exactly how the magic he used to shift worked. I wove some more of it around me and shifted back to human form smoothly. Whether the legends about shifters being descended from fairies were true or not, we used exactly the same transformational magic to change forms, and it was very different to the type witches like Amelia used. I was glad my shift back happened so easily; interesting as my fairy form was, I was happy to look like me again, too.

"I bet they stay the same even when I shift completely," he thought aloud, still staring at the new marks on his neck. "I won't have fur there any more."

"You're not upset?" I squeaked. "That scar looks like it'll take a really long time to fade."

He shook his head, still smiling. "It won't ever fade. When a fairy marks someone like this, it's permanent."

"Oh." I took that in. "I'm really sor-"

He clapped his hand over my mouth before I could finish apologizing, and I glared at him, briefly wishing I still had fairy teeth.

"You just did me a really great honor. Are you sure you want to apologize and take it back?" He removed his hand and stared me down, hoping I didn't regret what I'd just done, because he was so happy about it. I couldn't understand why.

"How on earth is it an honor for me to lose control and turn into a fairy and bite you and leave you with a permanent scar?" I sputtered.

"Has anyone else seen your true form?" he asked.

I shook my head. Even I'd never seen my true form before; in fact, he saw it for the first time before I did.

"Well, that's a big honor for a start. But the mark... this means a fairy chose me as their mate. It's the biggest honor you can bestow on someone, much bigger than the amulet you gave Amelia, even. Fairies only ever claim a mate for love, so having this on my neck tells the whole world I'm dear to you. Any Supe who sees one of these knows that if they harm me, they'll have a pissed-off fairy to deal with, and not many will risk that. You've just granted me your protection, among other things."

I wasn't sure what good my protection would ever do him, but at least he wasn't upset about this. "So this doesn't mean anything bad?"

"No, it means something really good," he smiled, taking my face in his hands. "It means I'm yours."

He kissed me softly, and I could feel that he was giving himself over to me, offering me everything he had as my own. It was powerful, and wonderful, and completely beyond my comprehension why he would want this. I pulled away, not yet ready to take his gift.

"And you're OK with that?" I couldn't wrap my head around this; it made no sense that he'd want to be owned by another person.

"More than OK with it," he whispered, leaning in close to me. "I'm thrilled. For a shifter in love with a fairy, this is the best thing that could possibly happen. Even if you were a regular halfling, you'd be way out of my league... but you're important enough that fairy royalty guard you, and still, you chose me. For you to claim me like this... I was already yours, this just means you've accepted me as your own."

He was grinning at me and radiating pure joy, genuinely delighted that I'd claimed him. I didn't understand it, but it was still sweet.

"But you didn't want to mark me," I puzzled, trying to figure this out. "You made it sound like something bad."

"It means something completely different when when a shifter marks their mate, than when a fairy does," he admitted. "The placement of the mark pretty much says it all. This is pretty typical for a fairy," he caressed the scar lovingly, "it's right where your mouth lands when you've been kissing someone and you nibble your way down to their neck." He smiled softly at me. "I know it must seem pretty brutal to you, but I was brought up with shifter customs and this is so sweet and tender by comparison, marking the one you love in private, to accept them when they willingly offer themselves to you as your mate. That's not how shifters do it."

"What do shifters do? You said the placement of the mark is important?"

"Yeah," he agreed hesitantly. "It's one of those shifter customs I hate, and I promise I'll never do this to you. When shifters take a mate, only the woman is marked, and the mark usually goes on the back of her neck, not the side. The mark's not supposed to be neat and even like this, either, it's considered better if it's messier, because it shows she put up a fight. It's done publicly, too. He holds the back of her neck so she can't get away while he mates her in front of his pack."

"You mean..." I trailed off, not sure I wanted to say it.

"I know humans would use a different word for what happens, but packs are all about the dominant asserting their will over everyone else. Most packs still believe that men are naturally dominant over women because we're bigger and stronger, so a woman has no right to say no to her mate. It's almost a prerequisite to be allowed to mate, that a man come up with a set of circumstances that his usually-willing partner will object to, then make her do it anyway." His voice was utterly flat and emotionless, as though he simply couldn't allow himself to feel anything about that.

I sat in silence for a while, letting it sink in. I'd seen enough pack rituals to know women had to be sexually available whenever it was required of them, so I wasn't surprised by what he said, but the image still horrified me. I couldn't quite shake the feeling that because fairies were considered more powerful than shifters, I'd just taken the dominant part of that equation, permanently marking his neck without asking if I could. That felt really wrong to me.

"I'm not sorry you're my mate," I said softly, "but I'm sorry I didn't ask before I marked you. I should have gotten your permission, and it's wrong that I didn't. I don't care if fairies are more powerful, I don't want to take away your free will. I shouldn't dominate you sexually, either; you should have control over what's done to you. I won't do it again, I promise. I'm really sorry."

He blinked at me in disbelief, wondering how I could get everything so wrong.

"You didn't do this to me without my consent," he insisted. "When I called you my mate and offered you my neck, I gave you permission to mark me; that's how it works. I only asked what your instincts told you because I could feel you holding back, and I wanted this. You told me your instincts said to bite me and I agreed to it. I knew you might mark me permanently, and I said yes. You didn't do this against my will."

I breathed a huge sigh of relief then, glad I wasn't quite as bad a person as I thought. He picked me up from where I sat on my dressing table and set me down on the edge of my bed, so he could sit right next to me and look me in the eye.

"Couldn't you feel how much I wanted this?" he asked, his eyes drilling into me. "Couldn't you feel that I loved it when you bit me?"

"Yes," I agreed weakly, "but you like it when I just make use of you sexually, too. I feel like I'm taking your will away from you."

He shook his head and rolled his eyes. "You've never taken anything without my permission. Everything we've ever done together, I've wanted. Please don't go regretting any of it, because you're talking about the absolute best sex of my life, and I was hoping there'd be plenty more just like it, bossiness and all," he grinned cheekily at me.

"So... you like that I don't ask you what you want, and just take what I want instead?" I didn't understand how that could ever be OK.

"Hey, I've been getting exactly what I want. I want to make love with you, and I want it to be as great for you as it is for me. All the rest is just details, and if you're the one who works out the details most of the time, so what?" he shrugged. "It works great for me, lying back and letting you do all the hard work. You should try it some time." His voice was low and husky, and he was giving me a look that promised all manner of pleasures. Exotic, unusual pleasures.

"What do you mean?" I asked, a shiver running up my spine as he stared at me.

"Let me be in control," he whispered. "Just once, let me show you what it's like to lie back and enjoy. I don't know how to explain this to you with words, but I need you to understand. The things you do to me are so amazing, I don't want you to stop because you don't know how great it is to give up control and let someone else do all the work. Trust me, please?"

"I... um..." I squeaked inarticulately. Did I want this? My rapidly moistening body said yes, but my jittery mind said to run, right now.

"This morning was good, wasn't it?" he rasped in my ear, his hands caressing me all over. "I bent you over the kitchen bench and fucked you while your roommate was just outside, and I'm pretty sure you liked that. You even came when I asked you to, like you know exactly how to let go and enjoy the ride when you can relax enough to do it. I think, before so many bad things happened to you, you liked a man who can take control and pleasure you senseless sometimes. I think, if you could trust me just this once, you could like that again."

"I... I don't know." Well, my body wanted to; I just didn't know if I could do this without panicking.

"Don't be afraid," he reassured me. "I won't hurt you, I promise. Please, let me show you what you've been doing for me? Let me return the favor, just this once?"

"I... I want to... but if you mean you want to tie me up or something, I can't," I trembled, close to tears. "I just can't. Sorry."

He leaned over and kissed me then, so sweet and tender that my heart rate started slowing down immediately.

"I know," he said as he broke the kiss. "The nerves in your wrists are still too damaged for that, and I saw how frightened you got in training when I had to tie you up to teach you how to escape that. But you can magic your way out of any kind of restraints anyone might use on you now, so anything like that would be symbolic anyway. Steel chains can't hold you any better than this can."

He moved towards me, and for the first time ever, I wondered if I should be scared of him.


	4. Bound

_Author's note: For everyone who asked, a certain someone won't re-appear 'til after sunset ;)_

* * *

Quinn wrapped his hand around my left wrist loosely and moved it gently until it was behind my back, with my forearm horizontal across my lower back. Then he did the same to my right wrist, arranging my arms so they overlapped loosely. He laced his fingers through mine and wrapped each of my hands around the opposite wrist, giving them a brief squeeze before he let go. My own hands were holding my arms behind my back, I knew that, but I still felt like I was completely at his mercy.

"Let me be in control, just this once?" he asked gently. "If it gets too much, release yourself and I'll stop right away."

He was sitting beside me on the edge of my bed, trying to convince me it was OK that I liked to be in control during sex... by showing me how good it could feel to let someone else be in control. I was ambivalent about what we were doing, to say the least. On the one hand, I was very turned on by the idea of lying back and letting him pleasure me any way he wanted; and on the other, I was utterly terrified, because it reminded me a little too much of some of the events from my recent history.

Before I could start to panic, he was kissing me softly, cradling my face in his hands. I was puzzled for a long moment, wondering why, if he could do literally anything to me, he would still be kissing me? I did know what it was like to be in bed with a very dominant man, or at least, I thought I did: I'd had plenty of fast, rough, out-of-control sex with certain vampires before. But I could feel that wasn't what he wanted; that he had no interest in taking me quickly or forcefully.

Then I remembered something he told me once. When he saw me naked for the first time, he said my body was like a buffet to him, and he couldn't work out where to start. As he kept on kissing me sweetly, I finally realized what he was asking of me. If I let him do whatever he wanted, he would make a ten-course meal of me, at least. There was no way I'd be able to rush him, so he would take all of me, little by little, until he had tasted every delight my body had to offer him. He wasn't asking for a quick, forceful fuck; he was asking for all of me, wanting me to put myself in his hands so he could play and explore and please me - just like I did to him.

He could feel my hesitancy, and suddenly realized what might be worrying me. "I won't do any of the things you asked me not to," he assured me. "No tying you up or holding you down or hurting you or pretending to force you. All the usual rules still apply."

He kissed me again, and this time, I was finally relaxed enough that it felt really good. He kissed me deeply, possessively, telling me that if I let him go on, he would explore every inch of me as thoroughly as he was exploring my mouth; that he would know every part of me and love me all the more for it.

I knew I could free myself by letting go of my arms, but I quickly found that I didn't want to. It was an oddly enjoyable sensation, feeling restrained. It was like I was powerless to do anything but accept his gentle, tender kisses, and I was starting to feel like that could be alright. It helped that I could 'hear' his thoughts and he was concentrating so hard on giving me a good experience, convinced that if I enjoyed this enough it would be easier for me to trust him.

When he finally pulled back from my lips again a few minutes later, I leaned forward to keep contact as long as possible and he chuckled.

"How you doin'?" he asked.

"I'm OK." I was a bit surprised about that, but it was true, I really was OK.

"Good," he smiled. "Close your eyes."

I closed them immediately, finding strange pleasure in doing what he asked. His hands moved me around until I faced away from him, and he slid behind me so I was leaning against one side of his chest, my arms trapped between our bodies. He left me just sitting like that for a few moments, and being unable to see or move made the sensations of his warm, hard body against mine all the more intense. I could smell him all around me, hear his breath in my ear, feel the contours of his body pressed against my back, and taste him on my lips from our recent kisses... but he didn't touch me. _Why isn't he touching me?_ I wondered. The moments dragged so slowly, they felt like days. I waited patiently, my body readying itself for him before he'd laid a single finger on me.

"Please," I begged softly, when I could stand it no more. "Please."

"Tell me what you want." His voice was a soft caress against my ear, making me shiver.

"Touch me. Please touch me."

"Where do you want me to touch you?"

"Everywhere. Please, touch me anywhere."

Something moved against my jaw, barely brushing my skin, and I leaned into it, craving contact. After waiting what felt like a long time for his touch, my body reacted so strongly it was as if he was touching me somewhere much lower, much more intimate. It was so wonderful, I couldn't wait for him to do it again. But he didn't.

I waited patiently, wanting him more and more by the second. He could smell my arousal, I knew it, and I was completely at his mercy. Why wasn't he touching me?

"Please, please touch my breasts," I finally whimpered, overcome by need.

He started tugging at my t-shirt and bra, pulling hard on the fabric without ever touching my breasts directly. Even the indirect stimulation of the straining fabric felt intense, like he was making my clothes stroke me while he did not. Then, all of a sudden, cool air hit my right breast. "Oh," I moaned, finally realizing what he was doing. He kept tugging my bra downwards, kept stretching the low scooped neckline of my t-shirt even lower, until my left breast was exposed, too. I moaned again, unbelievably turned on by the way he had chosen to expose me. He kept adjusting my clothing until he was happy with it, and I could only imagine what my breasts looked like, forced up and together by my bra and the stretched neckline of my t-shirt. My imaginings stirred low in my belly, heating me up even further.

But he didn't touch me. He just left me sitting there, craving his touch, desperate for any stimulation he would give me. Little whimpers escaped my throat as I waited for him, trying so hard to be patient. All I could think of was his smell, his warmth, his hard body, his breath on my ear, the taste of him on my tongue. Slight eddies of air caressed my breasts tortuously, deliciously. I had never hungered so much for anyone in my life, and if he didn't touch me soon, I felt sure I would explode. Then, without warning, something brushed one nipple, then the other. I gasped and writhed, trying to follow the movement to keep contact. He chuckled in my ear.

I needed more, had to have something, anything. I was so aroused that I would take whatever stimulation I could get, just to relieve my aching need a little. I wrapped my legs around one another and squeezed them together tightly, wriggling my hips as I did, so my slick folds rubbed against each other. I moaned long and low, loving how it felt.

"I thought I got to be in control this time?" he growled in my ear, tweaking my nipples roughly as he did.

I cried out as my pussy clenched in sympathy, my head falling back against him. "Oh... so good," I moaned.

"I still didn't say you could move," he rumbled. "Should I do that harder... or should I leave you untouched for a while?"

"Harder," I panted. "Please, do it harder."

He didn't strike again for what felt like an age, just listened to me beg as I kept on squirming, getting myself more and more excited. Then, suddenly, without warning, both my nipples were in his vice-like grip, pain searing straight from my breasts to my wet, wet pussy. I screamed my excitement, pleasure/pain driving me out of my mind with desire. I had never been handled so roughly in my life, and I was stunned by how much I liked it. But just as swiftly as it started, it was over, and my scream turned into a little sob. My breasts felt heavy and my nipples were sore, deliciously sore, achingly sore.

"Was that OK?" he asked softly, and I could feel he'd gotten caught up in the moment and gone further than he meant to.

"Yes," I gasped. "Perfect."

I could feel him grinning beside my ear. "Stop that wriggling right now," he ordered, "or I'll do that to you again."

"Please," I gasped, my insides trembling with excitement, as I squeezed my thighs tighter and wriggled faster.

My hair was suddenly being pulled, forcing my head back and to one side. I was so turned on, even that felt good.

"You should do as I say," he whispered in my ear. "Your nipples are already getting red and swollen... all you have to do is sit still and be patient, and I'll leave them alone entirely."

I showed him what I thought of that by wriggling even more frantically, and true to his word, he tweaked my tender nipples as 'punishment'. As I moaned in delight, he pulled my head back a little further, and suddenly his mouth was on mine. His tongue was deep inside me, claiming me, possessing me, as his other hand kept inflicting tender agonies on my lightly-bruised nipples. He didn't have to do anything rough now; they were sensitive enough that every touch had a slight undercurrent of pain; just enough to make the pleasure all the more extreme.

My hips found a rhythm, no longer wriggling aimlessly. When I squeezed my legs together tightly enough and tilted my hips to just the right angle, every little movement created pressure on the spot where I needed it most. He kissed me deeply, assertively, telling me I was his, and all I could do was surrender to him. I did, willingly. Restrained and unable to see what he was doing, my entire world was made up of his tongue in my mouth, his hand in my hair and his fingers tormenting my nipples, one after the other. I wanted so much more, but all I could take of my own accord was the subtle stimulation created by my clenched thighs - and for that, I endured delicious 'punishment'.

A tingle ran up my spine, and I realized that for the first time in my life, I was going to come just from squeezing my legs together and moving my hips... and it would happen soon. I knew this was what he wanted, to pleasure me in ways no-one else ever had. I knew that every time he did, he possessed a little more of me; that the imprinting made me more and more his with every touch, with every climax. I also knew that in this game we were playing, I should ask his permission before I came - and if I didn't, he would 'punish' me for it later. Every one of those thoughts thrilled me, pushing me closer and closer to the edge.

As my climax rocked my body, his tongue in my mouth muffled my screams and his hand in my hair stopped me from moving; all I could do was buck my hips a little, while I reveled in the feeling of complete surrender. I came for him, came so hard I felt in from toes to nose, came because his mastery of my body was so perfect I could cry. It was a climax of violence and pain, but also a climax of resolution and love. I came knowing that I was his, completely and utterly, totally and completely.

When my hips stopped bucking and my body sagged, his arms wrapped around me and held me to him, his mouth still claiming mine. My surrender deepened as I melted against him, utterly receptive, his mouth mastering my whole body. His kiss was claiming me in ways his cock couldn't, literally making me face what he offered me. It was magic.

When he finally released my hair and let me slump over in my post-orgasmic haze, I was actually sad he let me go. I snuggled back into him, freshly sated but already wondering what he would do to me next. His mouth was right by my ear and he blew across it gently, making me tremble in renewed arousal.

He chuckled, then started whispering seductively. "Mmmm, you were humping yourself after five minutes of that, and coming so hard you almost pulled your own hair out five minutes later... I'm not sure you could take a whole afternoon of this, babe."

"I can!" I protested. "Don't stop! Please, more."

Wow, if that'd only been ten minutes... my mind boggled at what a whole afternoon of this would be like. Being utterly at his mercy, the tiny frisson of fear that generated in me, and being unable to see what he might do to me next... it all made me hyper-aware of everything happening around me, and that made every minute feel like ten. Especially when he made me wait. I shivered in delight, wanting more of this so desperately I was getting even wetter just thinking about it.

He kissed his way along my neck slowly, drawing happy little moans from me every step of the way, then sat me up and moved away from me. I felt the bed shift as his weight suddenly wasn't there any more. He was too far away; I wanted him touching me again, right now. _Please_, I begged silently. I could feel his eyes on me, and I knew that if I reached out to him mentally, I'd see exactly what he did - but why ruin the suspense?

"Move your hips again." His voice was right by my ear, startling me with its proximity.

I did as he asked, squeezing my legs tightly and rocking my pelvis, looking for one of those magic spots where the pressure was just... Oh. Like that. It felt even better now, my folds so slick and wet and swollen. Perfect. I found my rhythm and started moving in earnest, wondering how long it would take to climax again, just like this. I could hear him breathing faster, even across the room, and that little reminder that he was watching made it all the more exciting.

"Now open your eyes and look at yourself," he ordered.

Oh. Not what I expected at all, but still I did as he asked. I glanced down immediately, taking in the way my naked breasts were framed by the stretched-out neckline of my top; a sight even lewder than I had imagined it would be. My nipples were much darker than usual, flushed from all the attention they had received and so hard they ached for more, but I was pretty sure they weren't bruised. If anyone knew the difference between painful things that would leave a mark and ones that wouldn't, Quinn did.

I was silently thankful for that, grateful that the pain would end when the kinky sex did, not hang around for days like some of the minor injuries I incurred with Bill. _Yet another advantage of being with someone who's alive_, I thought. _Sex in the daytime, having meals cooked for me, and knowing exactly what my fragile mortal body can withstand... there are so many great things about having a living lover. _But the word 'lover' would forever make me think of someone dead, and I shook off images of a certain Viking before they could distract me.

I turned my attention lower down my body. The way my hips moved made it so obvious what I was doing; a bitch in heat seeking any relief she might find. Embarrassment almost made me miss a beat, but in the end, horniness won out.

"Stop."

_No, not that. Anything but that_, I thought, whining loudly, but I had already obeyed before I could voice my objection. He knelt in front of me, kissing me sweetly as he reached around and released my arms. I resisted momentarily, not wanting him to let me go, and he chuckled into my mouth as I reluctantly allowed him to move my arms back to my side.

"You enjoyed that," he stated, but I could feel that even though he sounded certain, he needed to hear me confirm it.

"That was... wow." I couldn't think of anything articulate to say about it; I was completely lost for words.

He grinned broadly at me. "Good. You want me to keep going?"

"Please."

He leaned forward to whisper in my ear. "Stay restrained, and you're mine to do whatever I want with. I'll tease you, and fuck you, and a dozen other things besides, and all you'll be able to do is writhe, and moan, and come when I let you. Tell me you want that."

I had my hands behind my back in an instant. "Please," I begged. "I'll do anything you want. Please."

"Yes, you will," he threatened. "But if you release your wrists I'll stop. And once I stop, I won't touch you again, no matter what. Are we clear?" His voice was full of danger and menace, making me shiver, but he was really giving me an out, reminding me how to stop things if this got too much for me. It was a game and nothing more; he was making it clear that this could end right away if it ceased to be fun.

I nodded, staring at him wide-eyed, playing my role of utter helplessness to the hilt.

_If your wrists get sore, you can move them,_ he added silently. He brought my hands in front of me again and wrapped each one around the opposite wrist, then slid them up and down my arms a couple of times, showing me a few different ways I could hold them. He knew the nerves in my wrists were still damaged from the Fairy War, and he needed to be sure he wasn't about to make them any worse. I was touched by how much he cared about that. _If they get so sore that moving them doesn't help, just press your hands against the mattress instead._

I nodded and kissed him, needing that intimacy, and he let me. As our lips and tongues and teeth melded tenderly, a thought crossed his mind, wondering if we should work out something called a 'safe word'. He quickly concluded there was no need; that if I gave any hint I wasn't enjoying myself, he'd back off immediately... 'no', or 'ouch', or 'stop', or 'too much' were all safe words, he decided. He was being so careful, making absolutely certain he didn't harm me, that I relaxed completely against him, whimpering when he pulled back from my mouth.

"Tell me to stop," he whispered, "or you're mine for the rest of the afternoon."

I just stared at him, licking my lips hungrily.

"Then take off your clothes," he ordered, releasing my hands so I could.


	5. Control

My hands trembled as I took my clothes off, one piece at a time. First I moved my t-shirt from where it was stretched down to expose my breasts, and pulled it over my head. Then I undid my bra, sliding it off to finally release my bare breasts from being pushed up and together by misplaced clothing. As I bent over to untie my shoelaces, my nipples brushed my thighs, their slight soreness reminding me of exactly what I'd agreed too. A shiver of arousal and slight fear ran up my spine. I pulled my shoes and socks off, one and a time, then stood up to remove my shorts.

"Turn around," Quinn ordered, sitting in the chair beside my bed, watching me nervously strip for him.

I did as he asked, undoing my shorts and shimmying them down my hips. Then I had to bend over to take them off, giving him an unobstructed view of my butt. I blushed as I did it, embarrassed to be exhibiting myself like this, even as it turned me on like crazy. I stepped out of them quickly, eager to stand back up so I could affect some semblance of modesty again.

"Stop," he growled. "Stay right where you are, and close your eyes."

I gasped, but did as I was told, freezing where I was, bent over with my backside pointing towards him. I expected him to make me wait for much-needed stimulation, feeling his eyes all over my barely-covered ass as I grew hungrier and hungrier for his touch. He didn't. He moved from the chair soundlessly, so I got absolutely no warning he was within touching distance. The first I knew he was there was when a finger slid all the way inside me, my panties pushed aside to allow it. I cried out in shock and delight at the width, length and slight roughness of the single digit now within me. I had dry-humped to orgasm twice in the last hour or so - once on top of him and once while he played with my breasts - so I wasn't just ready to have him inside me; I ached for him.

His finger stayed perfectly still within me as I waited for more, and while it felt great, one unmoving finger wasn't nearly enough to satisfy me. I squeezed it tightly with my muscles, trying to make it feel bigger, longer, harder. I could feel his breath on my upturned ass and I wished with all my heart that he would bite me, or finger me, or both. My sex was achingly engorged, ready to be fucked so hard it would bruise my insides, but his finger was just resting there, tormenting me. As I dreamed of him taking me, I got wetter and wetter around his finger, and I knew it wouldn't be long before I was literally dripping. I could 'hear' in his thoughts that he felt my body readying itself for him and loved the feel of my juices coating his finger, but he was careful not to think of what he was going to do to me next.

He withdrew his finger so quickly that I didn't feel it move, just felt the sudden emptiness it left behind. One finger wasn't nearly enough for me, but feeling it gone was unbearable torment. He left me just standing there for what felt like an eternity, but was probably really only a minute, my panties still pushed aside to expose my throbbing lips to the air. He blew across them a couple of times, making my muscles clench and my body tremble. Then, as suddenly as one finger was removed, two fingers were all the way inside me. I moaned loudly, welcoming him into me. I milked his fingers enthusiastically, taking whatever pleasure I could get from them, while the rest of me starved for his touch.

When he finally started moving his fingers a little while later, it was heaven. He expertly massaged all the right spots, pushing his fingers wide apart to stretch me open for him. I couldn't help moaning at the delightful sensations he was creating, and my hands quickly found their way to my breasts. Then his other hand adjusted my panties again, and all of a sudden... "Oh," I moaned loudly, as his hot, wet mouth latched onto my clit, sucking and licking. Making me wait first made everything feel so much more intense, and another wonderful climax started building within me immediately. The imprinting might distract me in training, but it also made it possible for me to come, and come, and come again, sometimes just because he asked me to. I sure liked that part of it.

Time moved so slowly when he made me wait, but as he touched me, it flew. My body gratefully soaked up whatever pleasure he offered, loving the way his fingers fucked and his mouth sucked me. He was thinking how great I tasted, greedily lapping up the steady flow of juices that trickled down onto my clit. His mouth drove me utterly mad and his fingers were making me tingle all over. I was getting close, and I could hear in his thoughts that he knew, but he wasn't going to give me permission to come. He had something else in mind; something he was sure would make me lose it and come when I wasn't 'allowed'. Before I could wonder what, a warm finger traced around my other opening. He was right; that would do it.

"Please," I begged. "I have to come. Please, please can I come? Please?"

"No," he growled against my clit, the vibration pushing me even closer to losing it. "Wait."

"Please," I whined. "Please... please."

He chuckled cruelly and went to work on me even more intensely, using every trick he knew to delight and torment me. My whole body felt warm and tingly, but I just held on, trying to do as he asked even as I begged and pleaded. He wasn't going to let me hold on though, I could feel that; he was already looking forward to 'punishing' me for coming without his permission. He slid a third finger into me and sucked a little harder on my clit, vibrating his tongue against it as he did. God, it was good. I wanted to scream. I wanted to let go and buck against his face. I wanted to come right that second. But I didn't, I just begged instead. He was impressed by my self-control; he had wondered if I could hold on through this, and was more than a little pleased that I could.

But then, he stopped tracing circles and pressed in gently, threatening to doubly penetrate me. I couldn't beg, could only sob that I wasn't allowed to climax. If he actually did this... before I could think about it, his finger was sliding just a little way into me, pushing me open, taking the one part of my body I hadn't yet given him. I was screaming my pleasure before I could stop myself, my climax white hot and amazing. I milked his fingers, ground against his face, pinched my own nipples, and almost fell over in a heap as I came and came.

I don't know how long I was out of it, but when I slowly returned to my senses, he was holding my hip firmly to keep me upright. He lapped up my juices as I trembled with wonderful aftershocks, still bent over with my ass in the air. Then he helped me stand, turning me around to kiss him so I could taste myself all over his face, my eyes still closed obediently. He held me close, pressing my almost-naked body against his fully-clothed one, reminding me that I was his willing, wet toy for the afternoon. He was so hard against my belly, all I could think about was getting that wonderful cock inside me, anywhere he wanted it.

"You came three times in those panties today," he whispered in my ear. "Take them off and give them to me, I want them as a souvenir." Then he took half a step backwards, giving me space to do just that.

I shivered as I slid my panties off my hips, crouching down to pick them up. I didn't have to open my eyes to know when my face was level with his cock; I felt the added surge of lust that ran through him when he saw me there. I leaned forward and nuzzled the fly of his jeans, pulling a pained groan from him as I did. It took him barely a second to decide he could delay everything else he had planned, so I could stay naked on my knees before him a while longer first. Then I stood up again, shyly holding onto my underwear as my mouth watered, anticipating what he would have me do next.

He took my panties from me and I heard him inhale deeply, then moan approvingly.

"Mmmm, these smell so great," he purred. "You're so wet, you soaked right through them."

"Wet for you," I murmured. "Wet for your cock."

"Later," he dismissed me. "You came without permission, so I'm gonna make you wait, and wait, and wait... Your pussy can just keep getting wetter, the only place you can have me right now is your mouth."

I was on my knees before he'd finished saying it, fumbling with his belt and then his button and then his zipper, finally getting his underwear out of the way so he could spring forth, bumping against my nose as he did. My hands groped blindly until I got hold of him, and then my mouth followed so I could suck him dry. I was surprised that he was covered in come already, until I remembered that when I bit him before, he literally came in his pants - although me writhing and moaning and humping him like crazy might've had something to do with it, too. I licked him all over, sucking every drop of his juices into my mouth.

I'd heard women think how awful their man's come tasted so many times, but he didn't taste bitter and acrid to me, like I'd 'heard' a man would, just salty and masculine. I briefly wondered why that was. Did shifters taste different to humans? (They sure tasted different to vampires.) Did my fairy blood give me a taste for body fluids, the same way vampires loved them? Had all the vampire blood I'd taken changed my tastes to be more like theirs? I realized I didn't care why he tasted good to me, I was just glad that he did.

The taste and feel of him in my mouth made me moan around him, and the vibration made him gasp. My hand worked up and down his length as I sucked him hard, swirling my tongue around his velvety head and playing with the little cord of flesh underneath. For once, my telepathy was a boon; I could feel exactly how amazing this was for him, and knowing how much I was pleasing him made me moan around him again, which made it even better for him. _Wow_, I thought. _No wonder guys like this so much._

He wouldn't last long, I could tell, and I wanted to make him come faster than he ever had. My hand started crackling with energy, as I used my fairy pleasure trick to send sparks of wonderful sensation straight from his cock to his brain. He let out a hoarse roar as I did, and I felt how difficult it was for him, holding back so he didn't thrust into my mouth and hurt me.

I experimented to find exactly how deep he could go without making me gag, then wrapped my hand around him firmly so he could thrust no deeper. Then I pulled back and stopped moving, pushing his ass with my other hand to make him move instead. He resisted for a few seconds, but didn't have the willpower to say no to something he wanted so desperately.

"Look at me," he ordered. "Watch me fuck that pretty mouth of yours. Watch my face as I come right down your throat."

My eyes snapped open and I looked up at him obediently. What I saw turned me on far more than I expected. He towered over me, so huge I could only see his face by tilting my head right back, and he was still fully clothed while I knelt before him completely naked. It was the most submissive thing I'd ever done – far more submissive than letting vampires bend me over something and fuck me way too hard – and I found myself hoping he'd be rough. My spare hand slid between my legs. He tangled a hand in my hair and started fucking my hand and my mouth, while I sent sparks of pleasure shooting through his body from where my fingertips gripped him tightly.

Anyone who saw us doing this might think it degrading and a little violent, but it wasn't. I knew why he wanted me to look at him now: he was watching my face carefully, alert for any sign he was hurting me. Each time he thrust into my mouth he forced his eyes to stay open so he could check that I wasn't gagging, even though he wanted so badly to close his eyes and drown in the wonderful sensations I was creating for him. He didn't look at me as a thing to be used; his face said he adored me all the more for trusting him to do this, and his thoughts were equal parts blissful and caring.

He only thrust roughly a few times before he slowed right down, doing everything he could to make this last. He was still only in my mouth maybe two minutes before he was right on the edge, holding on with the barest thread of self-control. I could've finished him off with my fairy trick, but I didn't want to. Instead, I sat back so I had to angle his cock downwards and stretch my neck right up to take him, then moved my hand right down to his base. I had heard in Amelia's thoughts a while ago that you could tame your gag reflex with the back of a toothbrush and after a couple weeks' practice, I was pretty sure I could relax my throat at will. I tried and sure enough, he slid in easily.

He stared down at me in awe as I moved my hand away and slowly took him in all the way, 'hearing' his astonishment quickly turn to overwhelming, uncontrollable pleasure. He quickly released my hair so he didn't tear it out by accident and rested his hand against my cheek instead, just before he roared and came deep in my throat. I slowly slid him back out again as he did, so I could taste him. The instant he was finished, before I was even done swallowing, he stumbled back into the chair, pulling me up into his lap as he did. His arms were tight around me and his face was buried in my hair.

"Oh, babe," he panted in my ear. "Oh, babe."

He was quickly coming down from his high, not entirely comfortable with what we'd just done; apparently, I wasn't the only one whose boundaries blurred and crumbled when we made love. He didn't think he was the kind of man who would enjoy 'making' a woman get on her knees and face-fucking her, but he had. I wanted to tell him I didn't think I was the sort of woman who'd enjoy doing it, but I just did. I knew that wouldn't make him feel any better though, so I just cuddled him, kissing him sweetly when he finally looked up enough that I could.

"I love you," he whispered, cradling my face in his huge hands as though it were the most precious thing he'd ever touched. "You know I love you, right?" His eyes searched my expression, trying to decipher how I felt about what we just did.

I just nodded and kissed him again, telling him with my lips that I was fine.

"So you're OK?" he asked, calmer now but still concerned about me.

"No," I pouted. "You said you were gonna fuck me all afternoon, but look, you're all soft and cuddly already. Darn men." I pretend-huffed, hoping he would take the not-so-subtle hint that I was still horny.

I moved to get up, as though I was about to walk away, but he wrapped his arms around me tighter and pulled me back to him.

"I'm not done with you yet," he growled in my ear, crushing my body against his. He held me to him for a few seconds, needing just a little more closeness before he could resume our game. But once he was ready, he added, "Go sit on the bed."

Then he released me, and I did as he asked immediately. When I sat down, he gestured for me to move forward until I sat right on the edge of the mattress. He stared at me for a few moments, his eyes working their way all over my body in a way that reminded me that I was completely naked, and he was still clothed. When I felt myself blushing again, he grinned at me.

"Spread your legs," he commanded, and I did. "Wider," he added, not happy until they were as far apart as they would go.

He looked me over a second time, and my body started aching for him again. He wasn't even touching me, just staring at me from across the room, and still he was turning me on like crazy. I couldn't understand how he could have that effect on me; I was so embarrassed to be displaying myself to him like this... and even more embarrassed that he could see how much it aroused me.

"Mmmm, really not done with you yet," he purred, sounding unbelievably naughty. "Close your eyes."

I did.

I didn't know what to expect next, and I found that oddly thrilling. Would he make me wait, sitting here craving his touch? Would he take me right away, deep inside me before I heard him move? I kept out of his mind, happy to be surprised.

An instant later, he was caressing me all over, stroking me so lightly I wasn't certain he was actually making contact with my skin, moving so quickly he could cover my whole body in barely three seconds. I let out a blissful sigh, delighted to finally have him touching me. He lay me down on my back, moved my arms above my head and wrapped each hand around the opposite wrist so I had to keep myself restrained, then kept on stroking me. His hands traveled everywhere except the places I wanted them most; my arms, legs, belly and shoulders got plenty of attention, but my breasts and mound went achingly untouched.

He broke contact with me for a couple of seconds, and then the mattress shifted under his weight. He moved my right leg to make room and then his warm body pressed against my side, skin to skin. I was so glad he had finally taken his clothes off; his hot naked body always felt incredible against mine, making us both tingle as fairy magic and shifter magic sparked together. I moaned and snuggled against him happily. He had me in a state where even gentle touches felt so intense I was shuddering and moaning with every one. I wondered how it would feel when he rolled on top of me and pressed his body down hard against my oh-so-sensitive skin? I was really looking forward to finding out.

He took hold of my right thigh and started thrusting against me, and I could feel his cock getting bigger and harder with each stroke. He was rubbing along the spot where my leg met my body, and soon his tip was teasing my fine blond curls.

"Tell me what you want," he ordered, his voice low and hoarse in my ear.

"Please fuck me," I whimpered. "Need you inside me... Want you so much it hurts. Please, now."

He kissed me long, hard and deep, showing his mastery of my body with a kiss that tingled all the way down to my toes. As I surrendered completely to his insistent mouth, his hands finally went where I wanted them most. He handled my breasts roughly, every pinch and tweak making muscles clench down low in my belly, so I felt even more desperate for him. Then his hand was between my legs, stroking and teasing my entrance, checking how ready I was and generally tormenting me.

"Mmmm, this is gonna be so great," he whispered in my ear. "You're so ready; dripping wet, hot and tight. God, I'm gonna love sliding into you, stretching you open so you can take all of me." He was talking dirty to turn me on even more and it was working; I was panting loudly in his ear. "It's great when you're insanely turned on like this... I could fuck you as hard as I want and you'd love it... or I could go really slow and see how many times I could make you come. Mmmm, the things I'm gonna do to you..."

"Please... please," I whimpered, over and over, as his talented fingers teased me, inside and out.

"Oh, I'm going to, just as soon as you do something for me."

"Anything," I promised, and I meant it; I was so turned on, I would do literally anything to get him inside me.

"Tell me about the dream you had this morning."

"But I don't remember it," I whimpered. I was close to tears at the thought he might stop, just because I couldn't remember some silly dream.

"It would be a shame to have to leave you un-fucked, just because you didn't tell me," he threatened, making me quake with fear at the thought of him leaving me needing him so much, then added, "so I'll refresh your memory." He twisted my left nipple absentmindedly, as though that were the price of telling me, and I moaned. "You fell asleep on top of me, and a few hours later, you started moaning my name in your sleep. And then you started saying 'yes' and 'please' a lot... and making those little sounds you make when you're really turned on."

_So I had a sex dream_, I thought. _Big whoop. Could've been about anything. I'll just have to make something up to tell him._

"Then you started wriggling your ass in the air, like you were offering it to me," he continued, still whispering hoarsely in my ear. "You were lying right on top of me, whimpering and wriggling your beautiful ass... and then you said, right in my ear..." he paused dramatically, making me wait for the punch line, "you said, 'please, Eric.' Again. Quite the hard-on killer, don't you think?"

Oh, no. I knew exactly what I'd been dreaming about, and I sincerely hoped I hadn't said anything more. Dammit! Of all the silly little fantasies I'd ever entertained... He was waiting for a response, but I couldn't get a word out. My skin felt hot and flushed, and I caught in his mind that my excessive blushing confirmed his suspicions far better than any other response could.

He kept whispering in my ear, sounding almost feral. "The next thing you said was, 'both' and you were saying 'please' a lot, so I began wondering what you were dreaming about... especially when you started up with all those noises again, only louder. And then, right at the crescendo, you moaned my name, and then his... and then you let out this long, satisfied sigh and said, as clearly as if you were awake, 'I love you. I love both of you.' And then you started snoring really loudly, right in my ear."

If it was possible to die of embarrassment, I would've expired right that second. He knew exactly what I dreamed about, I was sure of it. _Oh no_, I thought, _he's gonna be so mad at me._

"Tell me about your dream," he implored. "Tell me, or I'll stop touching you."

He shifted his weight as though he were about to pull away from me, and slid his fingers from where they were teasing my insides. I was mortified that he caught me dreaming about that, but the thought of him not touching me was so much worse.

"Threesome," I sputtered, "I was dreaming about a threesome. I'm so sorry, please don't be mad at me, I didn't mean it."

"Not mad," he growled, thrusting hard against my side and prodding my mound with his cock to prove it. "Not mad at all. Keep talking."

"Are you sure?" I wondered, stunned that he wasn't angry. "I was dreaming about someone else, and I know I shouldn't, and I'm -"

"No," he interrupted, sliding his fingers back inside me as possessively as he ever had, "you were dreaming about ME and someone else. You think I'm gonna mind anything you dream of doing with me? God, when you sound the way you did this morning... I had to leave the room so I didn't fuck you in your sleep." Even as his fingers drove me so crazy I could barely string thoughts together, let alone words, I could still 'hear' how unacceptable he thought that was, how amazed he was that he could want an unconscious woman at all. "Please, tell me what happened in your dream? Tell me all about it, every detail, and I'll give you exactly what you want. Please?"

He stilled his fingers and then gently withdrew them, ignoring my whimpered protests, so I'd stop making incoherent noises and start talking instead.

As he did, I realized that nothing between us was ever purely physical; not even when we did something slightly kinky like this. He was asking me to share my most private sexual thoughts, the same way he shared his simply by leaving his mind unshielded while we made love. Somehow, that turned me on even more.

"No, I..." I started to object, but found I didn't want to resist him. "It's my second-favorite fantasy, after the other one I showed you," I whispered. "I've always wondered what it would feel like, to have two men at once. I like thinking about it."

"Oh, I know," he growled in my ear, rolling on top of me. "I can smell how wet you get when you talk about it. You always come instantly, when I'm inside you and I touch you there... that's why, isn't it? You're thinking about another man fucking you at the same time, aren't you?"

"Yes," I admitted, my voice barely audible. I wrapped my legs around his waist and tried to pull him to me. "Yes."

"But you've never done it?" He was really surprised that nobody I'd been with had shown me off to their friends that way; apparently, it was normal vamp behavior. Ew.

"No," I said firmly. I wasn't the kind to be passed around to anyone's friends, and I could 'hear' that he knew that.

"Have you ever wanted to?" he asked, sliding against my entrance.

"Yes," I breathed, completely surrendered to him. "I almost asked once..." I trailed off, not sure I could say this, even now.

"Tell me, babe. Please, tell me everything." His urgings were desperate, hungry, commanding... boy, did I want to give in to him.

"Well... I was on these pain meds that made me really talkative after I got shot, and Bill and Eric were both there, and they were posturing and bickering like they always do... and I know they do that because they both want me, and on drugs it seemed like the best way to stop them arguing was to let them both have me... and I almost said it... I almost asked. But I couldn't fuck Bill again, not ever, not after..." I paused. "Sometimes, when I'm alone, I think about what might've happened if I had... but I'd rather it was you, not Bill."

"Mmmm, yes please," he rumbled in my ear. "Threesomes are fantastic. You would like it so, so much, getting all that extra attention... Two pairs of hands sliding all over your body... a mouth wrapped around each of your nipples, sucking you just the way you like... two cocks to take, any way you want... and you would love being licked and fucked at the same time... god, if you ever want to try it, I am so there. When I think about being inside you while someone else gives you head, feeling your muscles tense around my cock as you get closer and closer..."

He made a desperate, incoherent sound as he lined himself up to take me, his mind awash with uncontrollable lust. He was thinking of the way my body shakes and shudders when he gets me off by sucking, licking and gently biting my clit, and imagining what it would be like to be inside me while I came that hard. It was incredible, sharing my most secret fantasies with my lover; driving each other wild talking about things we might try one day, if I was ever brave (read: slutty) enough to actually do them. I squeezed my legs around his waist even tighter, pulling him to me, desperate to swallow him whole, to take him inside me and make him mine, one more time.

"You've done that before?" I asked, surprised I actually liked that, simply because if we ever did try it, he would know exactly what to do.

"Yesss," he hissed, pushing all the way inside me slowly, then held still so I'd listen to him whispering seductively in my ear. "You thought just because I'm mated and madly in love with you, I'd renounce every kinky thing I've ever done and be happy with the missionary position in the dark, once a week on 'sex night'?" His voice was a threat of endless erotic torment and I trembled, delighted by his words. "You can't tame a tiger, babe, I'll always be just a little bit wild... but then you're not such a babe in the woods yourself, are you?"

"No," I grinned, happy someone finally saw that... and liked it. I shivered in arousal at the thought of what else he might like to do with me.

"Good," he kissed me again, letting me feel how much that thrilled and delighted him. "Now watch me fuck you."

I opened my eyes and stared up at his face, loving the adoring look he gave me, even as he started pistoning in and out of my hungry body. He took me slowly but so, so hard, making me feel him as deeply as I ever had. I used my legs around his waist to help, pulling myself onto him with all the force I could muster, my eyes rolling back in my head each time he sunk into me. I was trembling in no time, cresting on a wave of pleasure that threatened to take me right over the edge at any moment. Then he stopped.

"Watch," he ordered, a strong hand sliding under my head to gently lift it up, making me look down our bodies to where we joined.

Then he started moving again, just as he did before... only now, I was staring at his sculpted muscles, studying the way his chest and stomach moved as he fucked me, the way his arms flexed to take his weight and support my head. It was one of the hottest things I'd ever seen, his body moving so sinuously, the ripple of muscles as he thrust and withdrew, thrust and withdrew. As I looked lower, he exaggerated his movements so I could watch him slide in and out of me. Adding such intense visual stimulation to the wonderful feelings he was creating within me was simply too much; I was immediately gasping and moaning and writhing and whimpering.

He released my head then, wanting to look into my eyes as I reached my peak. I loved that he enjoyed that so much; that seeing such intense pleasure written on my face thrilled him just as much as being inside me did. My eyes kept flicking down his body though, fascinated by his hard, flexing muscles. He pulled right back one last time, so I could watch as he slammed all the way into me in a single hard, smooth movement. Then I was there, screaming as my body practically convulsed beneath him, my climax so intense it felt like he had pulled me apart and put me back together again. He never let up for a second, pounding me so relentlessly that by the time I came down from my first peak, I was halfway to the second. But I needed more, so much more.

"There's gloves in the top drawer of my night stand," I whispered, "and lube."

I was glad I'd picked up that trick from Eric, using the same thin plastic gloves we used at work to handle food, so he could finger my ass as deeply as he liked without worrying about getting dirty; they even rolled up neatly inside themselves afterward, as though they had been made specifically for this purpose, and all their other uses were an afterthought.

"Mmmm, really not a babe in the woods," he purred, leaving me empty for barely a second as he retrieved what he needed.

As his fingers slowly pushed their way into my behind, I felt every bit of tension in my body release, opening myself to him completely. He knew what I liked to think about while he did this to me now, and this time, it was his hot mental images making me moan and squirm and squeeze him tight. He had taken my most secret fantasy and run with it, watching me shudder beneath him each time he thought up a new erotic vignette, delighted he could drive me so crazy with lust... and unlike my uninformed imaginings, his had all those little details that made them feel very, very real.

It was beyond incredible, to share something so deeply intimate. Neither of us ever wanted to share, and yet... a faceless stranger adding an extra body part to the mix, here and there, excited me so much he couldn't help but want it too. He let wild fantasy mix with something more real, showing me all the ways he could make little parts of my dreams come true, how he could give me the physical sensations of what I wanted so much, while keeping me all to himself. I loved every second of it.

As he filled my mind with the most decadent pleasures, my body was utterly full of him too, and that felt indescribably right. Even my mouth was full of his tongue, as his other hand tangled in my hair and he kissed me aggressively. He was as excited as I was, lust sizzling through his veins like fire. He kept moving at the exact same pace, though: slow, rough, relentless... He was determined to last until I was utterly spent, lying limp beneath him, deliciously sore and purring with contentment.

It took a long while, but he got me there.

I released my hands then, pressing my palms to the sides of his face so I could share my satisfaction with him. When he felt how much pleasure he had given me, he finally let himself finish, roaring like the tiger he was; a tiger who had just fucked the woman he loved into oblivion, claiming her as his own.

We clung together afterward, completely unable to let each other go.


	6. Trust

"You were right," I told Quinn, propping myself up on my side and running my fingernails over his hard, sculpted chest the way he loved.

We lay on my bed completely naked in the middle of the afternoon, bathed in a sunbeam that streamed in through my bedroom window. It felt so decadent, skipping training for half the afternoon to have fantastic sex, then cuddle and nap a while. _I could get very used to this_, I thought.

"Hmmm?" he asked, too enthralled by the feel of my nails on his skin to register what I said.

"What we just did... I heard you think beforehand that if I put a lot of trust in you and it worked out well for me, that because I'm imprinting it would change things, make it easier for me to trust you... and it worked. I'm sooo relaxed now. I've had this knot of tension in the back of my throat for years, and it's finally gone. Thank you."

I had his full attention then. "I'm so glad," he said, kissing me tenderly. "You're not angry?"

"Why would I be?" I puzzled. "Although... this won't make me trust everyone, will it? Am I gonna be completely gullible now? Or more so, anyway."

"No, of course not!" he exclaimed. "I wouldn't do that to you. If those were my choices, I'd rather you never trust me than put you in danger like that. Imprinting is really specific, it only effects your instincts towards your mate, not the rest of the world. So you'll find it easier to trust me, but no-one else. And I'll do my best to be worthy of that trust, I promise."

"You are," I reassured him, but he still wasn't certain.

"You're not mad that I didn't ask you first? I wasn't sure it would work, but I've heard stories and I thought it was worth a try. I didn't want to remind you of all the reasons you find it hard to trust anyone just before we did that, though. I was pretty sure it would mess things up for you if I did, so I just went for it."

"I know," I smiled. "I caught enough of that in your thoughts to know it wasn't just random kinky sex, that you had other reasons as well."

"I told you one of my other reasons," he reminded me, trying to bring something up casually. "I wanted you to know how amazing it feels when you take control, so you don't keep freaking out about it... did that work, too?"

"Oh, yeah," I purred. "If that's what it's like for you... wow... the anticipation... all the wonderful surprises... feeling kind of conquered and cared for at the same time... I didn't know it could be like that. I didn't get why you like it so much, but I do now. I didn't think I'd ever be able to try that, either, but I could feel how much you wanted it to be good for me, and that made it OK."

He smiled broadly and crushed me to him, locking me in a bear hug. "God, you're amazing," he murmured in my ear. "It's so easy to be with you. No misunderstandings, no misconceptions... is it OK being in my head so much though? Hearing all my thoughts doesn't bother you?"

"Not at all," I grinned. "Your mind's so quiet and calm, it's actually kinda soothing."

"Not much going on in there, huh?" he joked.

I just rolled my eyes at him. People assume he's stupid because he's huge and built like a wrestler, and he loves to play up to it. To him, it's a tactical advantage; people underestimate his intelligence, so they don't notice him maneuver them right where he wants them. He apparently used it to great advantage when he was a pit fighter, but now mostly used it in business negotiations.

"Not much useless chatter going on in there, is all," I corrected. "Humans... it's just 'blah blah blah' so much of the time, that's what gets annoying. Shifter minds are much easier to listen to, y'all have a head full of instincts and images and feelings instead, not so many words. It makes things really straightforward.

"Like when you're hungry, you're hungry; you don't sit there weighing up the health benefits of all your options, or critiquing your body to talk yourself out of eating, or worrying what your boss thinks of you taking an hour for lunch while your colleague eats a sandwich at his desk. You just feel hungry, and if you don't already have plans to eat soon, you make some. That's so easy to listen to.

"Sex is the same, you don't have all the issues and hang-ups and fetishes humans have. You just feel horny, and get this urge to be near me, and that's it. You don't get into specifics about what you want to do and where you want to do it, usually... it's like you just want to get me alone and naked and see what happens. You don't even get hung up on coming inside me, although that's kind of the point, isn't it?"

He gave me a confused look for a moment, then figured out what I meant and chuckled. "What, because animals only have sex to make babies?" He laughed even harder when I nodded. "You do know that's a load of horse shit, right?"

When I shook my head, he propped himself up on one elbow as though he were about to tell me something important.

"Well, it is. Humans made that up so they can rant about how unnatural contraception or homosexuality or oral sex or whatever is, and it's just not true. Animals have sex because it feels good, a lot of species don't even know it leads to babies. They just feel drawn to someone, they want to be near them and touch them and kiss them, and if that goes well, it feels so good they get turned on and want to get even closer. And it feels so, so good to slide inside someone, and when you do it just right and they're making those noises that say they're loving every second of it... man, it's just the _best_. That's why animals have sex."

As I thought about what he'd just said, I remembered watching deer wander out of the woods and mate in my backyard when I was a kid, and quickly realized that what I'd seen then matched up with his take on things: how the buck always spent a while licking the doe's rear first; how he'd then try to climb onto her back (and she'd usually let him, even though she could easily walk away if she didn't like it); how he'd lick and nuzzle and gently bite her neck... I'd never seen a deer have a screaming orgasm, but I'd definitely seen what looked like a pleased expression on their faces during sex. I'd even seen pairs of bucks do it a couple of times, and a pair of does once... _So much for all that being 'unnatural',_ I thought.

"Can't only people and monkeys kiss?" I asked a moment later, sure I'd seen that on a wildlife documentary somewhere.

He shook his head. "Lot of animals like mouth-to-mouth contact, even if they can't kiss the way humans do... so many sensitive nerves there. Staring into someone's eyes is great, too. It feels even more intimate when you can't use words at all. Tigers sit facing each other with their noses pressed together for ages when they're courting. See, even big scary predators love to smooch."

"That's what you meant about being a bit wild, huh?" I teased. "You love to smooch."

He rolled me onto my back and kissed me forcefully, holding me tight against him, showing he was still a big, wild predator - and I was his prey. His delighted, squirming, moaning prey.

"I love it all," he told me, finally coming up for breath to stare down into my eyes. "Kissing, cuddling, touching, licking, fucking... I'm happy to do it all, any way you like. You're right that I don't have the hang-ups and issues humans have... being a wild animal lets me off the hook for all that," he grinned. "Whatever feels good, I like... and almost anything can feel good if you do it right. You know that anything you want, you can ask me for? I've tried almost everything, I'm sure I'll be OK with anything you want."

He'd brought up something I needed to talk to him about, but I was still uncomfortable discussing it. "John," I started hesitantly, "what I told you about before, you know I couldn't actually... I mean, I like thinking about it, but... it's not really me to actually do that. I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to lead you on or -"

He stopped me talking by kissing me sweetly. "It's OK," he murmured a few moments later. "You don't have anything to apologize for. I would never put pressure on you to do something like that, you know that, right?" His eyes searched my face, looking for some confirmation.

"Then why did you want me to tell you about it so much?" It didn't make any sense to me.

"Because it seemed like something that really did it for you," he smiled, "when you were talking about it in your sleep this morning. I just like knowing what turns you on, even if we never actually do a lot of it. We can get most of the thrill just by talking about it, with none of the complications, and I really like that. It's just a fantasy though. I'm not sure I'd be OK about doing it, either, I just like watching you get all turned on thinking about it."

"But you've done that before..."

"Yes," he confirmed, looking me right in the eye. "You know how I said I've tried almost everything? Well I meant _everything_... well, apart from meeting the right woman and becoming mated. That's completely new to me," he beamed, thinking _and it's the best_. "But yeah, I've done it before, and even among shifters, who don't exactly have many hang-ups, it can get really messy."

"Messy?" I couldn't quite work out what he meant by that.

"Emotionally, I mean... even shifters have feelings about sex, so it's easy for things to get weird and awkward. People love the idea of it, but then the reality can be really different to what they expected, and if they've been hassling their partner for ages, they don't feel like they can turn around and say 'this doesn't feel right, let's stop', especially when there's another person involved. It's really not something to do lightly, I've seen great relationships completely implode over one threesome that didn't turn out how they wanted, and -"

"How?" I asked curiously. "What goes wrong?"

"Are you sure you want me to go into detail about my past?" He eyed me warily, but when I nodded he figured he should be honest with me. "OK, I've been the extra person a few times, and mostly it was great, but a couple times... a lot of guys have this fantasy of watching someone else fuck their woman, they find it really hot to think about, but then they do it and all they feel is jealous, especially if she seems into it at all. I've seen guys talk their girlfriend into fucking someone else and then split up with her for cheating on them, even though she only did it 'cos he hassled her for so long. It can get really messed up, when that stuff goes wrong. Not all fantasies are worth the trouble of acting out, and some things only ever work out the way you want them to in your own head."

"I get it," I nodded. "I've caught that stuff in people's thoughts so many times, and it makes more sense if they don't actually want to do it, they just like thinking about it. I kinda would like to try that other stuff you were thinking about though." I grinned at the thought of it, getting excited again already. "I mean, where it's just us, but you use other things to make it feel like... well, you know." I could feel myself blushing bright red, even talking about what I wanted.

"Good," he kissed me gently, trying to take the edge off my embarrassment. "Anything like that, if you wanna try it, all you have to do is ask." He gave me a hungry look, wanting to hear about every erotic thought I'd ever had in my life - and make as many as possible come true for me.

Boy, was I tempted. I could think of a few things I'd been curious about, things I might like to try, just once, just to know how they felt... things I might whisper in his ear in the dark one night and see what happened... but I always felt a lingering unease when we talked about this.

"You've been around a lot," I stated, trying not to let my voice betray how much I hated thinking of him with anyone else, even in the past.

"Not since I met you," he replied carefully. "If you're worried about me screwing around on you, I won't. I love you, I don't want to lose you. Besides, sex has never been as incredible with anyone else, and I just don't find myself as interested in other women as I used to be. Or at all, really. After we split up, I tried to move on a couple times, but I just couldn't get over you. You're the sexiest woman I've ever known, by about a factor of ten. Besides, being faithful to someone isn't exactly new to me, and it's not that big a challenge, really.

"But I did sleep around for a while, a long time ago. After I got out of the pits... when you're even a little bit famous, people want to fuck you for that reason alone, so there are always offers. Wherever I went, there'd be someone hitting on me. Even at really ridiculous, inconvenient times, when there was no way I was gonna go for it. When you're -"

"Like when?" I asked, suddenly curious.

He thought about it for a few seconds, and I caught more than a few silly situations flash through his mind. "I guess the worst was about five years ago, in Charleston..." he decided. "No, it was Atlanta. I was in Atlanta for a packmaster contest, I think, and Frannie used all my shaving cream on her legs, so I had to go to the drugstore to get more. I stupidly asked her if she needed anything, and she says tampons and chocolate. So I get there and the chocolate's fine, I know the types she likes, but there's about fifty kinds of tampons, and I have no idea what to get her. So I tried calling her, and she's not answering because she was dying her hair blue so I couldn't send her back to boarding school that Monday," he looked really pissed for a moment, then continued. "So after ten minutes standing around in the tampon aisle at nine o'clock on a Saturday night, trying to call her, all the people working in the place have decided I'm some sort of weirdo -"

"And then someone hit on you?"

"No, it gets better. I could hear two girls behind the counter discussing whether they should call the cops about me, so I decided I'd just buy her one of each and get out of there. Then when I go to pay, I've got this whole basket of tampons and a can of shaving cream -"

"And someone hit on you then?" I couldn't believe anyone would do that; it seemed so rude.

"Yep. This woman who's about twenty years older than me walks up and goes, 'I saw you fight once, you were incredible', in this annoying trying-hard-to-be-sexy voice, and starts rubbing my arm. And normally I try to be nice about all that crap, but I just spun around without thinking and said, 'They're for Frannie. My sister, Frannie', and she says right back to me, right to my face... well, she called my sister something really bad. Right to my face!" He was fuming, and I caught in the tangle of thoughts in his mind that the woman said, 'oh, the rape baby'. "And then she tells me Frannie's really only my half-sister so I can ditch her for the night. And Frannie's, like, twelve or thirteen or something then. I couldn't just leave her alone like that!

"So I said some not very nice stuff and stormed out, and then I realize when I'm halfway back to the hotel that I left everything behind: my shaving cream, Frannie's stuff, my credit card... I even slammed my wallet down on the counter when that bitch called Frannie that name and just left it there." He shook his head, thinking how stupid he got when people said rude things about his sister. "So I had to turn around and go back and get everything, and when I get there -"

"There's more?"

"Oh, yeah. I got back there and the girls behind the counter were actually really sweet, I think they decided I was OK when they saw me stick up for my sister like that. Or they went through my wallet while I was gone and saw that I have a couple of high-spend cards in there, so I must have money," he rolled his eyes, unimpressed by people who liked him for that. "Then one of them starts asking me what the woman meant and I just gave her the usual explanation I give humans, that I was a pro wrestler once but wasn't very good so I quit... and then she asks me what I'm doing later! And she's about fifteen!"

I laughed then, as much at the bemused expression on his face as anything else.

"Oh, did I mention that the woman rubbing my arm used the hand her wedding ring's on, and her husband was right behind her, looking really pissed off?"

I stopped short then, no longer finding it funny. "Wow," I marveled. "That's pretty bad."

"Yeah, that one was the worst. It wasn't all like that though. Lots of people want to have sex with someone just because they've famous, people you completely wouldn't expect, even."

"Like my sister-in-law," I grumbled, without thinking.

"Crystal? But I only met her once, at... oh, you mean she was thinking about me at _her own wedding__?_" he said with distaste.

"Uh-huh. When you turned up, my brother suddenly wasn't so interesting any more."

"God, you must hate being a telepath sometimes."

I just nodded. "It was pretty hard not to slap her for that one."

"I can imagine. Even I want to slap her for it, and I don't hit women," he muttered. "I'm not prudish about much, but that just seems so wrong."

"I kind of am prudish," I admitted, my voice barely more than a whisper. "I hate the thought of you with an endless procession of pit groupies."

"That makes two of us then," he agreed, leaning over to kiss me once more.

I wasn't sure whether to believe him or not.


	7. Instinct

_Author's note: Last chapter before sunset... ;)_

* * *

Quinn snuggled closer to me, as though checking I would still accept him. We were talking about his past, and even though he assured me that he had no desire to take advantage of all the sexual opportunities his fame in the shifter world afforded him, I wasn't entirely convinced yet, and he could tell.

"Look, I'd be lying if I said I always felt this way about it," he explained. "When I first started working for E(E)E and being around Supes again, I thought it was the coolest thing ever. When you're a twenty-two year old guy and complete strangers want to fuck you everywhere you go... I'm not made of stone. I took full advantage of it for about three years, and if you'd asked me at the time, I would've told you it was fantastic and I wasn't ever going to stop."

"What changed?"

"Honestly? I started having the cliched breakdown people have because it's so hard being rich and famous," he rolled his eyes. "So I started seeing a therapist, and she got me talking about what my life was like, but also what I wanted it to be like in the future. She asked me one day whether any of the women I'd been with recently were people I could see myself settling down with, since I wanted to have a family of my own one day, and -"

"And none of them were," I nodded, thinking I understood where this was going.

"No, plenty of them were, that was the problem. I was never into the really slutty types, the ones who were having sex to fill some sort of void in themselves. Guess I saw too much of myself in them," he chuckled. "I slept with a lot of really great women, women who I would've loved to date, but I was their walk on the wild side, a bit of rough trade, nothing more to them. The person they wanted me to be... well, they thought I was who I was in the ring all the time, so I never got to be anything more than that. It was physically satisfying, but it wasn't very good for me overall."

"What did they want you to be?"

He sighed loudly. "A lot of women have this fantasy about being with someone who's strong, stupid, and a bit of a brute. Just once or twice, before they go back to someone who's kind and gentle and cultured to be with long-term. So I got to play the all-brawn, no-brains fantasy guy, over and over."

"That must've been tiring, hiding so much of yourself all the time."

He looked at me in astonishment. "Tiring isn't really the word, I just wound up feeling... kinda empty, I guess."

I nodded. "Because you weren't really there most of the time, or only part of you was, anyway."

He stared, his mouth hanging open, wondering how I could know that.

"I see it all the time. People who are stuck in jobs or relationships or even friendships where they have to play a role that doesn't really come naturally, there's this... I guess creeping unease it the best way to describe it. They're not strictly unhappy, but they're not really happy, either. Kind of unfulfilled, I guess, like they're hungry for something they can't have."

"Yeah, that about sums it up," he agreed. "I thought all the sex was a nice escape from that, but when I figured out it was actually making it worse, I felt like such a moron. I know there's this stereotype of women wanting to feel loved, and men just wanting to empty their balls into the nearest female, but when a woman really doesn't want anything other than sex... on some level, it feels really wrong, but it draws us in and gets us hooked and when that happens over and over... I'm glad I stopped when I did. If I'd done it much longer, I'd have wound up becoming the man they all wanted me to be."

"I'm really glad you didn't," I told him, because I'd caught a bit too much of what other women had wanted him to be in his thoughts. A lot of it horrified me.

"Me too," he smiled.

"But you only did that for three years?" I asked tentatively, still mentally tallying how many women he must've been with in that time.

He nodded. "But as far as famous men go, I was a major underachiever. There was someone new every week or so, but I figured out pretty quickly that the second time with someone was always better than the first, and the third was always better than the second, so I'd try for short-term things instead of one-night stands. Well, I tried for an actual relationship a few times, especially with women who were on the road as much as I was and wanted something flexible, but I got a lot of fake phone numbers back then. Which I deserved, really."

"Uh-huh." I wasn't sure what to say to all of that.

"You're freaked out about this," he stated, trying not to sound upset. "Babe, after what happened to my Mom and all the stuff in the pits... I didn't have a nice, normal life to go back to, I had to make one for myself and that took me longer than I like to admit. But the life I have now... my work, my sister, you... I chose all that. My past... I didn't choose that stuff. It happened, and I made the best of it, but I didn't seek it out."

It actually made sense then, and I snuggled up to him for some more cuddles. His relief was almost palpable; he held me so tightly he was squeezing the air from my lungs, and I could feel he didn't want to let me go, ever.

"I love you," he breathed into my hair. "My past... it just makes me even more aware of how special you are."

"But..." I pulled away to look in his eyes, "aren't I kind of boring after all that other stuff you've done? Aren't I really dull by comparison?"

He laughed at me loudly, finding it hysterical I could even think that. "All that other stuff is fun occasionally, but the main thing trying all of it taught me is that it's totally unnecessary. Give me a beautiful woman, a bed and a couple hours and I'm a happy man. Well, until I met you. You're the only one I want in my bed now." He kissed the tip of my nose sweetly.

"So your wild days are over, huh?" I joked.

"Not at all," he purred. "Why do you think I got bored with short-term stuff? You can be so much wilder in a relationship than with a stranger." He saw my skeptical look and realized he'd have to explain. "What we just did... would you do that with someone you'd just met?"

"Heck, no!" I exclaimed. "No way!" I couldn't imagine doing that with _anyone_ else, but especially not a stranger.

"See? Only possible because we've been together a while, right?"

I saw his point and nodded.

"Some people only bring out their wild side with strangers, but me, I always found it takes time to really trust someone like that. I trust you more than I've ever trusted anyone, and I really hope you feel the same way about me... 'cause I know you've got a wild streak of your own in there somewhere, and I'd really like to be the one you trust enough to explore that with..."

I couldn't help but grin at that; I loved that he didn't treat me like an ingenue, an innocent to be seduced and devoured. To him, I was as responsible for seducing him as he was for me: the way I stared at him and voiced my appreciation of his body at the packmaster contest where we first met; the skimpy outfit I wore to flaunt my own body while he helped me pack up Hadley's apartment; my declaration that I had "big, big lust" for him before we first made love... He knew I was an adult with appetites of my own, and that excited him far more than any naive virgin could. I felt strong and sexy with him, confident in my own desires... and my ability to pleasure him. I loved that.

"Maybe." I batted my eyelashes. "Just a small one."

"If that changes, tell me?" he asked. "Your fairy powers... I'd like to believe you got them for free, other than a few nightmares, but if you find yourself feeling any wild instincts of your own..."

"Like taking you to the fairy meadow in the middle of the day to fuck you and scratch you and bite you? Like scarring your neck with my teeth?"

He smiled then. "OK, so you've already got an outlet for all the wild fairy sexual instincts," he grinned, happy to be my 'outlet'. "But if you start feeling other instincts as well, to hunt or kill especially... I know all about having instincts that tell you to do things that aren't acceptable if you're even slightly human, and finding outlets for them is really important."

"What sort of outlets?"

"Things that are similar to what your instincts say to do to, but OK to the human part of you, too. Like I used to want to hunt all the time, which wasn't so great, but if I eat heaps of meat, as close to uncooked as I can get it, I don't have to hunt very often. Only two or three times a year now."

"What do you hunt?" I asked curiously, never having heard about this part of his 'wild side' before.

"Whatever's nearby that I won't hate myself for killing. If the hunting instincts start screaming at me while I'm here, there's a nasty razorback that passes through your woods every few days, so I'd go after him. He's so violent and destructive, I'd be doing everyone a favor to take him out, including the other wild boar. Besides, the bears around here are endangered and deer are too cute, so razorbacks are about the only tiger food around... livestock's too easy, and all the other wild animals are too small."

Living in the country my whole life, I wasn't disturbed by my boyfriend wanting to go out hunting, even though I knew he wouldn't take a gun (or clothes, for than matter), just his claws and teeth. My brother liked hunting; my father and grandfather had too, when they were alive; many of the men I knew loved to kill things... but what disturbed me was part of me now did, too. The fairy part of me that enjoyed the sight of his blood on my teeth earlier today was also excited by the idea of hunting a wild boar, cornering it, sinking sharp teeth into its rump as it tried to escape, ripping it apart while it struggled... I shuddered in revulsion, disgusted that I might be capable of that.

He saw my reaction and got worried. "Too much?" he asked gently. "You've been so great about all the tiger stuff that I sometimes forget how weird this all must be for you... Sorry, I won't mention it again... it's not likely I'll need to hunt for a while..."

"It's not that," I admitted. "The fairy part of me likes the idea of hunting wild boar a bit too much." I shuddered again, just thinking about it.

He kissed me sweetly to say it was OK. "If fairy instincts are like tiger instincts, you need outlets for all of them. Suppressing them doesn't work, they just take over at the worst possible moment." He spoke from bitter experience, I could feel that. "Hunting's gross the first couple of times, but there are ways to make it easier for the human part of you. Like choosing your prey carefully, and making the actual kill quick so they don't suffer. Once you've made peace with your wild side, it's OK that you need to do things regular humans don't."

"How did you make peace with that?"

"I'm lucky, I feel so blessed to be a tiger that it wasn't hard. It's so great being completely wild and free some of the time, and the only price for that is I eat lots of meat, hunt occasionally and I'm wired a little differently to other people. It's a small price to pay for that. The power I've got is nothing like what you've got, though. The stuff you can do now, on top of your telepathy... that's gotta be worth whatever price you pay for it."

I shook my head. "Doing terrible things so I can be powerful... that's just wrong."

"What do your instincts tell you to do that's so terrible?"

I sighed. "Most of the time, nothing. But when Eric sent those girls to Merlotte's and I got really mad..." my voice faded away and I wasn't sure I could go on. He just waited patiently until I spoke again. "I wanted to eat their eyeballs," I finally whispered, disgusted with myself.

He just nodded. "That makes sense. Magically, all the rituals that involve eating eyeballs are about taking the things they've seen into yourself. So it would be like you saw him that way, not them. Did you feel an urge to do it? Or just an instinct that it was the right thing to do?"

"Just an instinct," I answered, relieved. "I didn't feel like I had to do it, just that it would make things right somehow if I did."

"Well, now you know why," he smiled. "Your fairy instincts told you how to remedy the situation magically, but they didn't make you do it."

"I didn't have to bite you, either," I grinned back. "Or claim you yesterday. Or even take you to the fairy meadow. I felt like they were the right things to do, and I somehow knew that doing them would keep you here with me longer, but I chose to go with it, I didn't have to do it."

He chuckled. "You must really want to keep me here, to go through both shifter _and_ fairy mating rituals to claim me as your own."

"You have no idea," I grumbled, rolling my eyes. "It still doesn't make it right though, claiming you like that without asking you if I could first."

He gave a frustrated growl then, wrapping his hands very loosely around my neck and pretending to strangle me for a second. "Woman!" he complained. "What part of, 'I liked it so much I came in my pants' do you not understand? How many times do I have to tell you I wanted this and I'm happy with it? You need to be in control, and I'm good with that... I just showed you why I like it so much... please, can't you stop worrying you're doing something wrong?"

"Sure," I agreed, but I wasn't completely convinced, and he heard it in my voice.

He got very serious all of a sudden. "Look, I was hoping I'd never have to spell this out, but...You need to be in control because of things from your past, and I honestly don't mind... It works for me. It's not something I could do with just anyone, but I trust you, and when you do that... it's like you want me just as much as I want you... and when you're on top, I don't have to worry about hurting you... but more than that... I have a past too... and if I ever forced a woman..." his voice cracked, and he was silent for a long time. "I couldn't live with myself, if I did that."

He was radiating so much emotion it overwhelmed me, and all I could do was cling to him until he calmed down enough that I could speak.

"I'm sorry, I didn't even think of that," I admitted, as soon as I could. "I didn't consider how that would effect you. Is there anything I can do?"

"There's one thing," he said immediately, and I knew he'd been thinking about it a lot. "What happened the other night... that's practically my worst nightmare, hurting you like that. Promise me it won't happen again? That if what I'm doing isn't good for you, you'll tell me right away?"

"I will," I promised. "It wasn't meant to happen like that. I wanted hard and fast, and even though things went a bit too fast... I just figured we'd take turns. I was gonna give you what you needed, then put you to work giving me what I needed."

"Now that, I'm OK with," he grinned, thinking of all the ways he would've liked to repay my generosity... and how much 'interest' he would add.

"Mmmm, me too," I agreed. "I love taking turns sometimes, especially if I get all the stuff you were just thinking about when it's my turn," I bit my lip just thinking of it. "Darn, if Eric hadn't opened the bond and been so furious with me-"

"He used the bond to interfere?" he interrupted. "What did he do?"

"He let me know he could feel what I was doing. He was so angry he wanted to kill us both, and make us both really suffer... it was awful."

"And then he did something to make you think of him while you were with me!" he fumed.

I went to deny it, but before the words could leave my mouth, something clicked. All the images that flashed through my mind, all those images of the expression on my face as he fucked me... they were his memories of being with me. Somehow, he had sent them to me.

"Is it possible to send images through a blood bond?" I asked shakily.

He just nodded, still furious. "We really have to get that asshole out of your head," he muttered under his breath.

And when I told him I agreed, I meant it with all my heart.


	8. Company

"You're gonna have company soon," James told me as soon as he came outside, exactly one minute after sunset.

"Oh?" I asked, as I stopped sparring with Quinn to talk to him.

"Grandpa ordered me to go check on the water tanks I'm having fitted out for his day suite, and he insisted I take Amelia with me. He didn't tell me why, but I guess he's coming over to argue with you again."

I laughed for a moment at what he called Eric; apparently he even said that to his face sometimes, and I was surprised Eric hadn't killed him yet - especially since James even called him Pops occasionally!

"Didn't you say the fit-out was being done in St. Louis?" Quinn asked, coming over to join us.

"That's 600 miles each way!" I exclaimed. "How long will you and Amelia be gone?"

"Just the night. He's loaning me the Corvette, so he must really want us gone," James said grimly. "Great for us, bad for you, I expect."

"Just how fast are you planning on driving?" I asked, horrified. "No, don't tell me. Amelia has her amulet, and you're a vampire, so you'll be OK. I won't worry about you," I said, trying to convince myself.

Quinn chuckled at me, knowing I would worry about them anyway. He knew how much I hated seeing anyone I care about in danger.

"What are we talking about?" Amelia asked, coming out to join us.

"Wanna go for a drive with me?" James purred, stalking around her as though she were his prey. "Grandpa's loaning me his Corvette for the night, and I'm gonna see if I can make St. Louis and back before morning."

She bit her lip and nodded, staring at him with a naughty look in her eye. She was thinking that if the hood of a very fast car was on offer, she wasn't going to wait any longer to have sex with him. Then she started wondering how much it would irritate Eric if he got his precious car back with assorted bodily fluids all over the leather seats, figuring it was fair revenge for those girls who turned up at Merlotte's.

"Don't you dare!" I yelled at her.

Quinn was wondering what I 'overheard', but James was staring at me like I'd lost my mind - he still wasn't used to my telepathy, especially since I couldn't hear his thoughts so I mostly managed to seem normal around him.

Amelia just laughed at me. "All's fair," she shrugged.

"Yes, but starting a war with Eric is a really bad idea," I told her, trying to convey exactly how bad an idea it was with my glare. It didn't work at all. "Your funeral," I sighed. "And I do mean that literally."

"Amelia, Eric's on his way over," Quinn changed the subject, "and we all suspect he's coming to take revenge on Sookie and I for getting back together, since he thinks he owns her. Can we do anything with the wards to make that difficult for him?"

"Hell yeah!" she exclaimed, her mind already full of spells she might cast. "One sanctuary spell, coming right up," she grinned.

She headed straight inside then, planning the spell in detail in her head.

"She can do that?" James asked. "Sanctuary spells are pretty hardcore."

I just smiled and nodded, proud that my best friend was becoming such a powerful witch. We all knew the fairy magic books Niall left had helped her a lot, letting her in on tricks and techniques no other witch had ever known. She had learned her lesson after changing Bob into a cat for so long and wielded her new power carefully. If she said she could do the spell, she meant she'd done it a dozen times before to practice.

A few moments after she left, Bill appeared right in front of me.

"Bill!" I squeaked, startled that he had seemingly materialized out of thin air.

"Sookie," he grunted, looking ever-so-slightly unhappy. "Eric ordered me here. He said I must tell you something."

"OK..." I mumbled, knowing nothing Eric sent Bill here to tell me would be pleasant.

"On the night Eric was punished," he began, never quite meeting my eyes. "When he closed the bond... the message I passed on was not accurate."

"I know," I told him. "Quinn overheard what Pam said, the message Eric asked her to pass on. I know you softened the blow. Thank you."

"No, I..." he looked ashamed; properly ashamed. Not just slightly ashamed like vampires usually did - this was a full facial expression. "It was not a message for you. Eric told me to fuck off, not you."

Then he disappeared into thin air, just as suddenly as he had appeared.

It took me a few moments to realize what he just told me: he passed on a message from Eric that was meant for him, to give the impression Eric split up with me. For a moment, I couldn't believe he would do something so dishonest and under-handed, but then I remembered what I'd once been told: vampires are _all_ twisty and deceptive, without exception. Bill saw a chance to cause trouble between Eric and I, so he took it. I could guess his motives; he wanted Eric out of the way so I'd date him again. For a moment, I was glad he helped split Eric and I up; dating someone as upfront and honest as Quinn was such a refreshing change; so different from life with vampires.

When I looked around to see where Bill had gone, Quinn was right beside me but James had disappeared too.

"Well, that was different," Quinn said. "I didn't know, by the way. I heard what Pam said, but I didn't hear what Eric told her in the background."

"I know." I had been eavesdropping to his thoughts that night, so if he'd heard anything else, I would've known immediately.

Then Bill and James both appeared in front of me, startling me so much I almost jumped out of my skin.

"Stop doing that!" I snapped. "Both of you."

"Sorry, Sook," James apologized. "I think he owes you an explanation. For what it's worth, I told Eric you were upset about the message Bill passed on and said he should call you, but when he didn't, I took that to mean he'd had a brain fart and decided to let you go. The moron."

I laughed then, amazed anyone could get away with calling Eric a moron, even behind his back.

"I did too," Quinn conceded. "I told him you'd been crying about it, to see if he'd do anything... just to be sure he meant it, you know?"

But that wasn't really why he'd done it. The real reason was, it upset him so much to see me hurting he'd do anything to make me feel better - even help Eric and I move past a misunderstanding. I just stared at him in shock for a few seconds, while he stood there trying to figure out what else to say. He decided I must be upset about him telling Eric, and was about to explain it was just a one-line PS: at the end of an email about my training, and offer to show me if I wanted. I stepped forward and hugged him before he could.

"Thank you," I murmured against his chest.

Then I turned my attention back to Bill, moving away from Quinn to look directly at him. He was staring at his feet, refusing to look at me at all.

"Why?" was all I could think to ask. "Why did you do that? Why did you lie to me?"

"I was angry with him," Bill admitted. "He speaks to me as though I am... er, a pile of manure."

I caught a brief flicker of something in Quinn's thoughts, something he kept behind one of those closed doors in his mind. All I could tell was he agreed that Bill was 'manure', because Bill was passing on information about me to someone. I resolved to grill him about it later, to find out exactly what was going on. For now, I had to deal with my ex and his unexpected revelation.

"So, what, you thought 'I'm mad at Eric so I'll tell Sookie he dumped her'?" I snapped. "Didn't you hear me crying about it all that night?"

"Yes," he admitted, "but it was for the best. Eric is not right for you, you should be with someone who treats you like a lady." He glared at Quinn, who glared right back at him.

I snorted and rolled my eyes. I wasn't getting back together with him, not ever, and I didn't understand how he could hold out any hope that I might. I could forgive a lot of things, but I could never forget. Could never forget that he seduced me under orders from his Queen. Could never forget him leaving me for his Maker, without bothering to say goodbye. Could never forget him telling me to go to Eric 'if' he didn't come back, as though I were a possession to be passed around. Could never forget what happened in the trunk of that car in Jackson.

But more than all that, I couldn't forget what it had been like when we were together. He was my first love, and I didn't know any better... So I let him feed on others because he said he had to, even though I hated the thought of him with anyone else... So I let him be rough with me during sex, sometimes so rough I was sore for a week or more afterwards... So I put up with it when he refused my advances because he was working on his database, thinking there was something wrong with me for wanting him so much. For a second I felt the sting of that all over again. I thought of all the times I went to his place, aching to make love to him, only to be ignored or chastised, and hoped that would never happen again. It hurt to offer myself to someone like that and find that I wasn't wanted.

On a whim, I took Quinn's hand for a second and silently asked him, _Um, when are the times I shouldn't hassle you for sex? You know, when you're too busy or caught up in your work or just not interested that day... how do I know when I should just leave you alone? _

He spun around to stare at me, his mind having a small meltdown as he tried to make sense of what I just asked him. The idea of turning down sex with me, ever, was so ridiculous to him that he actually burst out laughing, certain I was joking. When he saw the look on my face and realized I was serious, he stopped abruptly. He quickly figured this might not be about him, though.

_Someone turned down sex with you?_ he asked, utterly bewildered.

I gave a tiny nod.

_Holy shit. Are they insane?_

I gave a slight shrug, but my eyes flicked to Bill for a fraction of a second.

_HE turned you down_, Quinn deduced, then realized how that related to the conversation at hand. _Is that what he means by 'treating you like a lady'? Refusing to make love to you? Damn, if that's what I'd have to do to be a gentleman, being a roughneck suits me fine._

I couldn't help but smile at that.

_I can't imagine _ever_ turning you down, and I'd bet he regrets that a helluva lot, now he can't have you any more. _

He was thinking about being in hospital with two broken legs, in so much pain he could barely move, and still wanting me. He had been glad we could kiss at least, but even in that state, he wanted more. Then he was thinking about all the time he spent kicking himself after we split up, realizing he could've delegated various work duties to come be with me. Apparently he whiled away many hours, daydreaming about what might've happened if he'd skipped particular events and spent the time with me instead. To his credit, he didn't just think about sex; his fantasies included going on a wonderful date (and then have hours of sex), or cooking dinner together (and then having hours of sex), or going out dancing (and then having hours of sex); then cuddling me all night (and having hours more sex in the morning).

Just as Quinn's thoughts started to get me really, uh, interested, Bill cleared his throat loudly, reminding us he was still there. I sighed loudly and turned my attention back to him.

"You thought you could win me back," I summarized, "by telling me Eric had split up with me. That's why you did it."

"I did it for you," Bill insisted. "He is not right for you. Neither of them are right for you. I am the only-"

"NO!" I shouted, suddenly incensed. "That's not for you to decide! I say who's good enough for me, not you."

Bill backed down then. "I am sorry," he said stiffly. "I caused you unnecessary sadness. You have my apologies."

He looked like he wanted to run away again, but whatever James said to make him return kept him riveted to the spot now.

"Why didn't Eric just tell me that himself?" I wondered aloud. "He was here last night, he could've explained then."

"He probably thought it'd sound like an excuse," James offered. "That it'd be more convincing coming from him." He gestured at Bill.

"Or he enjoys making me look bad," Bill muttered.

I stared at him in disbelief. "You think Eric's making you look bad? You're the one who lied to me, he didn't make you do that."

"I did what is best for you," he sniffed. "You will thank me for this, one day, when you see what Eric is really -"

"Just leave," I ordered, not willing to listen to any more of his justifications.

He hesitated for just a second, as though he were about to say something else, then disappeared.

"Pops really does choose some crappy messengers," James grumbled. "What was he thinking, getting Bill to spy on you for him? He knows Bill's agenda; he knows what a deceptive creep that guy is... and he still gets to be the official messenger, just because he's older, and he's _the Area Investigator_." His voice rose an octave in contempt as he said those last few words.

I stared at him. "Bill's been spying on me?"

"I thought you knew," James back-pedaled. "I thought you worked it out from the way he hangs around and asks you all those questions... tries to find out when you'll be alone, and what you've been doing, and all of that."

I closed my eyes in humiliation. I had been tricked again by Bill, thinking he wanted to be friends when he was really here grilling me so he could tell Eric everything I said... and perhaps someone else, too. How bad did you have to be, for other vampires to call you a 'deceptive creep'? I wasn't sure I wanted to know.

_Not everything_, I realized a moment later. He hadn't told Eric about my nightmares, and I wondered what else he kept from his boss.

Then it finally hit me how much Bill's revelation complicated everything. Eric hadn't split up with me; Bill deliberately misled me to get revenge on Eric and try to win me back. That pissed me off enormously. Then I realized that even if Eric had a good reason for warding Fangtasia to keep me out, the girls at Merlotte's were still enough to end things over. He swore he didn't send them to me deliberately, and I believed him (although I was probably an idiot to do so) but still... the whole time I had been his bonded, he had been meeting most of his nutritional needs elsewhere, leaving me alone and lonely. I glanced at Quinn for a second and basked in the happiness of having a man who was really, truly mine; a man who wasn't sticking his fangs (and other parts) in other women all the time. _Maybe this isn't so complicated after all_, I thought.

Then I felt Eric approaching through our bond, and immediately knew things were far more complicated than I'd even begun to fathom.


	9. Pledge

Eric was on his way to my place, and that made me nervous - especially because he had arranged for Amelia and James to be gone for the night, so he would be alone with Quinn and I. I knew exactly what that meant: he wanted to confront us again about getting back together. At the very least, he was looking for an argument, but in all likelihood, it was more than that; he probably wanted to punish us both somehow, and I knew vampire punishments usually involved violence.

For once, I wished he would just turn up unannounced, so I didn't get time to worry about what was going to happen when he got here. Of course, it wasn't as though he'd called and _asked_ me if he could come over... or even called to tell me he was coming. As with so many things, I found out through his flunkys, and that annoyed me. Sure, he's not the kind of guy to call for a chat... but couldn't he manage some basic manners once in a while? Didn't I deserve any common courtesy at all?

I balled up all my anger and used it to help Amelia cast a sanctuary spell, to prevent him from doing anything violent in my home. I mostly held things and did what she told me, but there was one part of the spell that was simple to accomplish with fae magic and almost impossible with conventional magic, so I did it for her. I was glad to do something constructive about Eric's impending visit, instead of just sitting around worrying. I was also secretly pleased my fairy magic was getting so strong; where Amelia needed herbs and props and squishy gross ingredients to do anything magical, the most I usually needed was Niall's books and a few chanted words. I liked the simplicity of that.

As soon as we were done with the spell, Amelia got ready to leave, glad to be far away from angry Eric. I didn't blame her.

I knew he wouldn't let me go without a fight because I'm a valuable asset to his Area, and I wasn't sure what he'd do to end my relationship with Quinn. I also knew I wouldn't let him split us up, because I was happier than I'd been for years and Quinn was the cause of that. Even after Bill's confession that Eric didn't split up with me after all, I still didn't want to give up the man who makes me happy to go back to someone who infuriates me, endangers my life and makes me miserable so often. I still had strong feelings for Eric, but I suspected the bond caused most of them and I hated that. I didn't want to see him; I was happy as things were and I knew he'd change that if he could.

By the time I heard gravel crunching in my driveway, I was so tightly wound I practically jumped out of my seat.

Quinn squeezed my hand reassuringly. "We'll be OK," he whispered in my ear. "I love you."

I didn't get a chance to respond because there was suddenly a knock on my front door. Before I could get up to answer it, James already had the door open, and Quinn quickly moved away to another seat, putting some distance between us. _Darn vampire speed_, I thought.

Eric towered over James as they quietly discussed the trip to St. Louis in my doorway. He looked as splendid as ever, all lean muscle and long golden hair, but I was too nervous to appreciate the view. I knew things were bad when he didn't look at me once, and James didn't tease him at all. I'd noticed that Pam only stopped teasing Eric in the most dire of circumstances, and I assumed James did the same. As James and Amelia left, barely two minutes after Eric arrived, she said _Good luck_ to me silently, hoping the wards held. I hoped so, too.

Eric strutted into my living room as though he owned the place, still not looking at me.

"Leave," he ordered Quinn, his voice icy.

"Sookie, would you like me to go?" Quinn asked, using his best Southern manners.

"No, I want you to stay," I insisted.

Quinn just shrugged and leaned back in the chair, making it clear he wasn't going anywhere.

Eric showed a hint of annoyance on his otherwise-expressionless face. "You are in my employ. I order you to leave."

"I'm in Sookie's home," Quinn rebutted, standing up casually to look down at him. "She's the law around here, Sheriff, not you."

"I can make you leave," Eric threatened, his tone making the hairs on my arms stand on end.

"If you make him leave your Area, I'll go too," I mumbled. I didn't want to go, but if he was going to make life hard for us here, perhaps I'd take that trip around Europe I could finally afford thanks to my inheritance, and hope he'd cooled off by the time I got back.

Eric looked ever-so-slightly stunned for a moment; he clearly hadn't expected me to say that. Heck, I hadn't expected me to say that.

Quinn turned to give me a little smile, delighted by what I said. _I really hope it doesn't come to that, _he told me silently, _but I'm honored you'd even threaten to do that for me_. As he smiled at me, the left side of his neck faced Eric for a split second. Even that was too long.

"A fairy has claimed you," Eric smirked, moving closer to Quinn to study his neck. "I did not notice this yesterday. You must know you can have no other, now you belong to a fairy. Leave, or I will tell your fairy that you court another." He looked pleased with himself.

_Fuck_, Quinn thought. _I should've had the sense to cover it up. I wasn't thinking... sorry, babe. _

When neither of us moved or said anything, Eric tried a different approach. "Sookie, he has married a fairy... do you still want him?"

I couldn't figure out what to say; I hadn't planned to tell Eric right away. Quinn had no more idea what to say than I did, so we just stood there mutely, exchanging nervous glances. I could tell we were making Eric suspicious, but I had no idea what to do.

"Whose mark is this?" Eric finally demanded. "Was it one of your relatives, Sookie? Did they do this to make him stay to protect you?"

"No," I answered honestly.

"Then who? If any other fairy has claimed him, he cannot be with you. He has to leave."

I couldn't work out whether I was relieved or offended that he didn't even consider me as the source of the mark on Quinn's neck; he clearly didn't think me capable of assuming my true form. I was sick of being treated like I was useless and helpless, so I decided to tell him.

"It was me," I admitted. "I did it."

Eric just laughed. "My bullshit detector reads that as false, Sookie," he chuckled, finally looking right at me.

I was so furious that he was laughing at me, I shifted accidentally. I was snarling at him as I did, so he got to see my teeth morph into sharp little points. His jaw literally dropped.

"Your bullshit detector is broken," I spat, then shifted back to human form smoothly.

"You marked _him_," Eric muttered, his shock turning to obvious dismay. "You claimed _him_."

I nodded. "I didn't mean for it to happen, but it did. My fairy instincts say I should be with him, that he's my mate."

"You cannot!" Eric roared, erupting in fury. "You are mine!"

In an instant I was out of my seat, standing next to them with one hand angled towards Eric so I could push him back telekinetically if I had to. Quinn's calm was holding, so I knew he posed no threat, but Eric... Eric was seething. This was not good.

"I thought we established you have no conjugal claim," Quinn sighed, crossing his arms over his chest.

The two of them faced off for a few long moments, assessing each other. Quinn was larger and more powerfully built, but Eric was a thousand-year-old vampire. If it came to a fight, I knew exactly who would win. I didn't want them fighting over me, though.

"Guys -" I started.

"I think you will find that I do," Eric cut me off, and I knew from his expression he was about to say something bad. "She pledged to me."

"Sure," Quinn laughed, not believing him, certain that was something I didn't want.

"It's true," I confirmed, my voice barely coming out.

For some reason, it was the worst thing I could possibly have said. I felt his heart break; literally felt it tear apart in his chest. I felt his whole world flip upside down, because the person he had made the center of that world - me - wasn't who he thought they were. I felt his sudden revulsion towards me; I dropped in his estimation from 'future angel' to 'pond slime' in an instant. Most of all, I felt his overwhelming need to get as far away from me as he could, because he couldn't stand by and watch this happen to me. I was dead to him now, just for that.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Eric's look of triumph, his face twisted to ugliness with cruelty and glee. I wondered how I ever loved him.

Then Quinn was gone, faster than I'd ever seen him move.

I knew it would be hard to find out your girlfriend's 'married' to someone else, but I had already told him about this. I had to go after him and remind him of that, to make sure he knew I wasn't keeping it secret from him. But when I went to move, Eric grabbed me instead.

"Let him go," he ordered, locking his arms around me so I couldn't go after Quinn. "You are mine."

There was no time to argue, so I simply teleported away, reappearing against Quinn's car door just as he reached to open it. He sprang back, as though touching me would burn him, and I could feel it hurt him too much to look at me.

"I'm sorry," I blurted out. "I told you I had this vampire marriage thing with Eric, I thought you-"

"Marriage?" he yelled, so shocked he actually looked at my face for a second to gauge if I was serious. "Marriage? How the hell is having a Maker like having a husband?" I 'heard' that he'd daydreamed of being the latter to me one day, and was upset he never could be, now.

I was so confused, I just stared at him for a second. "Huh?" I finally asked. "Wha-? Only vampires have Makers... I'm not gonna be a vampire."

That disgusted him even more. "You want to be a turned fairy," he spat out. "Have you ever met a turned fairy, Sookie?" He wanted to pick me up and shake some sense into me, but he couldn't bear to touch me at all.

I shook my head, not knowing what this had to do with anything. I hadn't even known fairies could be turned...

"That's what I thought," he growled. "So he just says you can still go out in the sun, you won't have a Maker controlling you, you'll get vampire magic and still keep your fairy magic... hell, you won't even have to drink blood, you can just drain people's life force directly... and you don't think to ask what the price for all that is?" His voice was turning hysterical. "That kind of power doesn't come cheap. You'll be a walking plague, wiping out whole towns in a matter of days, and you won't be soulless like a vampire, you'll feel every one of those deaths on your conscience forever, because you'll be properly immortal; nothing will be able to kill you. Nothing. But it's too late now, isn't it? You've said he can turn you, and you-"

"NO!" I screamed, shocked he'd even suggest that. "Eric won't turn me, he promised." I slumped back against his car door, dizzy and weak.

He laughed then; a cruel, bitter laugh I'd never heard him use before. "You think he won't hold you to your pledge?" He was sure Eric would.

"John, what does being pledged mean?" I asked, so scared of what he might say I could barely make my voice come out.

"Don't call me that," he snarled.

I just nodded; clearly there were only two people in the world on first-name terms with him again.

"Quinn, what does it mean?" I repeated.

He wasn't listening. He wanted to get away so badly, he was only thinking about how to make me move from his car door, without just removing me himself. Angry as he was, he still wouldn't lay a hand on a woman, not even one who disgusted him as much as I now did.

"Answer me and I'll move," I bargained. "Just tell me what being pledged means, and I'll get out of your way so you can go." I wanted to cry as I said it, but I bit my tongue and pulled myself together.

"You really don't know?" he asked, finally noticing my terror and confusion, and immediately softening when he did.

I shook my head. "He said it meant we were married according to vampire law, but I told him it's not a marriage I recognize."

"Sookie, how did this happen?" he inquired, his voice quieting as his anger abruptly gave way.

"He had his day man ask me to deliver a parcel to him, and I was so busy and stressed I just did it without asking why, and I didn't check what was in it because that would be rude. It was the knife from when we were bonded, and when I gave it to him, he said we were pledged."

"You didn't get on your knees and beg to serve him for all eternity, in front of a bunch of other vampires? You didn't tell him your life was his?"

"Heck, no!" I snapped. "What do you think I am, some stupid fang-banger?" No way would I do that.

"So all you did was hand him the parcel, and he said you were married," he repeated, making sure he had it all straight in his head.

I just nodded.

"Oh, babe," he cried, moving to hug me. "I'm so sorry. I should've been here to stop him, I should've protected you."

"Please, just tell me what it means," I whispered, shrinking away from him before he could touch me. "Please."

"The pledge means you've agreed to be his Childe," he said simply. "You've agreed for him to be your Maker, and he's agreed to turn you."

"No," I whimpered, tears coming to my eyes. "No, he promised... It was the only thing I asked of him, that he never turn me. He promised me."

My knees went weak as I realized what this meant. I was going to die. _Eric_ was going to kill me. Eric, who I once loved. Eric, who I trusted as much as I could ever trust a vampire... He was going to turn me into something monstrous. He would condemn me to an eternity of massacring innocents, feeling every life on my conscience... For a moment, I couldn't believe he'd do that to me. But he was just inside my house, he'd surely heard this whole conversation, and he hadn't come out to tell me he'd keep his promise. I started slowly slipping down the side of Quinn's truck, my legs not holding me up any more.

Then I remembered something I had pushed from my mind, something I told myself couldn't possibly be relevant. He told me once, long ago, that Charles Twining _pledged_ to Hot Rain, Long Shadow's Maker, and that made Hot Rain his Maker, too. _Pledged_... he had told me what it meant, but I had chosen not to make that connection, not to think about what this might really mean.

I tried to make my legs lock underneath me so I didn't fall over in a heap. I wanted to keep what little dignity I had; I couldn't face Eric with my knees scraped up like a child's from collapsing on my gravel. _His gravel_, I corrected; he paid for it, bought it for me because he found out I needed it and couldn't afford it myself. He could be so sweet, sometimes, but underneath it all... _Vampires are _all_ twisty and deceptive_, I reminded myself, _every one of them_. I knew that; I'd had glimpses into his mind and he was among the coldest and twistiest of all of them. It was how he'd survived the last thousand years, so it wasn't like he was going to change; not for me, anyway. I knew that.

I was completely upright again a moment later, my arms each hooked over something to hold me up. I glanced down and Quinn had rearranged himself, leaning against the car with his weight resting on his hands, one tucked under each of my arms.

"I'm sorry I got so mad," he apologized, bending down to kiss me on the forehead. "I can't stand by and watch him kill you, but there's nothing either of us can do to stop him... do you understand?"

I just shook my head; none of this made any sense to me.

"Your pledge to him... if I interfere with it, the penalty will be my life," he explained, "and I'd still stop him, so long as you took care of Frannie when I was gone, but it wouldn't save you. If he dies, your pledge will be inherited by someone else... Pam, if you're lucky, or perhaps his Maker or Felipe, so you'll still end up dead... I don't know any way to get you out of this." He looked resigned to it, but he was thinking, _I'm gonna find one, though. But that's our secret, we have to pretend we won't fight this, or we'll both wind up dead. I won't let him kill you, I promise._

I looked up into his eyes, and now his anger had cooled, I saw how much this hurt him. The thought of me dying, especially dying a needless and preventable death... it tore him up that he couldn't do anything to save me. He was a warrior; he would always fight for those he loved, so having to stand by and watch his mate die was torture to him. He knew exactly how he'd kill Eric - had decided that since Eric had done such a cowardly thing to me, it was OK to take him on in the daytime when he was weakened - but he also knew that wouldn't help me at all; he'd be doing it solely for his own vengeance, and it could make my situation so much worse...

We just stared at one another for a long moment, both trying to figure out what this meant for us. We had been so happy only an hour ago... I wondered if we could ever get that back again.

"You don't have much time left," he murmured. "No-one stays pledged for long... he'll turn you soon."

Tears welled in my eyes again, but I pressed my hand to the side of his face and pulled him down to me, so our foreheads were touching. I concentrated so I could talk to him silently.

_Don't go?_ I begged. _I'm not dead yet... l want to be with you for whatever time I have left. Please, don't leave me? I need you, please stay..._

It took him a few moments to decide, and those moments dragged agonizingly for me. He loved me, he wanted to be with me, but he couldn't bear to see me die. He knew he would feel like a coward, walking away to leave me to my death when the time came... but he also knew his original logic for leaving was wrong: he knew it wouldn't hurt any less if he'd been away from me for a while before I died. He didn't love me any less for being tricked into this, and he couldn't give up the time we had left; he realized he'd regret it even more if he gave up on me.

He silently agreed to stay, heartbroken but happy I wanted to be with him to the end. I took his hand and led him back to my house.


	10. Faith

When I walked back into my living room, with Quinn following right behind me, Eric was sitting on my couch with his head in his hands.

"I didn't mean for you to find out like that," he said, looking up at me. His triumph and glee from earlier were completely gone; his face showed hints of worry and regret now, instead.

"You didn't mean for me to find out at all," I corrected.

"That is true," he admitted. "If you had not used that new trick of yours, this would have turned out for the best."

"How could this possibly turn out for the best?" I sputtered.

"He would have left without explanation. I would remind you how fickle breathers' affections are, and you would realize you belong with me." He had it all planned, I could see that in the look on his face.

I just snorted and shook my head.

"Shifters aren't fickle," Quinn corrected, sounding really offended. "We mate for life. Have you ever met a divorced shifter? We're not human, we don't discard a mate for someone younger if their looks fade, or for someone with different hobbies when our interests change. We know what a gift it is to have a mate, we don't get dissatisfied with them over trivial crap and decide we'd be happier alone. We fight _for_ our mate, not with them."

He was holding my hand as he said it, staring intensely at me. As his thumb stroked back and forth over the palm of my hand, sparks of delight danced up my arm, reminding me that we were bound together by magic as well as love. When he finally let go of my hand, I wanted to whine in disappointment.

"How noble of you," Eric huffed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You offer her a lifetime and think it a gift. I could give her forever..." he stared at me wistfully, a little smile playing across his face, as though turning me into a monster was something he dreamed about.

"Murdering me isn't something to smile about," I snapped.

Quinn shook his head. "He won't be smiling about it for long. Turning a fairy never works out well."

"I'm not going to turn her," Eric told him, as though I wasn't there. "I gave my word that I wouldn't, even before she changed."

"Then why go to so much trouble to trick me into this?" I asked angrily. "Why do this to me?"

"It made my claim over you indisputable," he replied, as though that made it all right. "It made it impossible for anyone to take you from me."

"But all she did was hand you a knife," Quinn interrupted. "What about the rest of the pledge? She never said her greatest desire is to serve you for all eternity, or that her life is yours, or any of that crap," he accused. "She never actually pledged to you, did she?"

"Pam will swear that she did. She was our witness," Eric smirked.

I shook my head. "So Pam was in on this. She helped you trick me."

"She agrees this is best for you," he informed me, high-handed as ever.

_If two vampires swear the pledge was completed, _Quinn told me,_ a human can't challenge it. Now that most of the fae are gone, I'm not sure you have any recourse through fairy law, either. I'll look into it, but I don't hold much hope. Sorry._

"So I'm stuck with you now. I can't get out of this, can I?" I asked Eric, feeling utterly defeated.

The one thing I wanted least of all – the one thing I made him promise he would never do to me – was to be turned into a vampire... but he had tricked me into giving him permission to do exactly that. I hated him for doing this to me, and even more for what he planned to do to me.

"No." Eric actually smiled. "You are mine. You will always be mine."

I sat down heavily in a chair opposite him, thinking carefully about what I would say next. He wouldn't like it at all, but I was determined to have some choice in my fate. Quinn quietly took the seat next to me, concerned about what I might do; he knew how much I hated anyone taking my free will away, and he half-expected my home to be destroyed any second by a freak lightning strike. But he had taught me well, and I knew this was not a moment to lose my temper. I kept as calm as I could while I thought about this, deciding what to do.

"Fine," I said eventually, shocking both men. "You win, Eric. You've outplayed everyone else, so you get your prize. I don't like my life being the prize in some stupid vampire game, but I won't let Quinn get killed trying to stop you, so I'll go along with this, on one condition."

Eric looked delighted. "I am glad you have seen sense and accepted this, lover. You are mine, you belong with me."

"I hate you for this and I always will," I glared at him. "And I told you, I'll only go along with it if you agree to my condition."

"Anything," he agreed, looking very pleased with himself.

I realized then that he meant it when he said he didn't care why I had sex with him, as long as I did; he would do literally anything to get his own way, including end my life. Nothing we had been through together in the last few years had changed that. I also realized that when he said he didn't care about my feelings, he meant that, too; it didn't matter that I would hate him for this, because once he turned me I would be under his command and he would finally get his own way on everything to do with me. I shuddered at the thought.

I had to keep reminding myself that Quinn would die if he tried to save me, so I could stay convinced that I _would_ go along with the pledge, and keep Eric from feeling any deception through the bond... even though I knew, deep down inside, that I would fight this right to the end. I would rather die than become a vampire, and if that was the only way to stop him turning me, I would take my own life, mortal sin or not.

"I want to enjoy the time I have left. I want a peaceful, happy life until then." I paused, to let him agree.

"Of course," he smiled indulgently, probably figuring I was about to ask for money.

"Thank you," I replied. "But you should know... enjoying my life, living peacefully, even being happy for any length of time... those aren't things that happen for me when you're around. However long I have left, I want to live it free of all your vampire crap. You've condemned me to dealing with that forever, so I'm not putting up with it now. For the rest of my life, I want you to leave me alone and let me be with the man who makes me happy, and that's Quinn. That's my only condition to give you your way over the pledge, do this for me and I won't fight it."

He looked stunned; dumbfounded even. "But you are mine," he protested. "You love me."

I shook my head. "I loved you when you were cursed, you were OK then. But this... I can't love someone who wants to kill me."

"I promised I would not."

"That just makes this worse!" I snapped. "To promise me you wouldn't, when you just tricked me into giving you permission... it's inexcusable."

_If he actually meant it when he promised not to kill you_, Quinn told me silently, _you've just backed him into a corner where he has to kill you to get you back._

I suddenly wondered if I'd made a huge miscalculation... if I'd just forfeited my life by challenging Eric's plans for me... although I really didn't think he meant it.

_Yeah, I don't believe him, either_, Quinn added, trying to reassure me.

"But I did this for you," Eric insisted. "I did this to protect you."

"Killing me isn't protecting me," I fumed. "I don't care how much stronger I'll be afterward; I'll still be dead. Murdered by you."

He seemed exasperated then, as though my feeble protests about not wanting to die annoyed him. "I thought you were growing up," he huffed. "I thought you were accepting that I know what is best for you. I thought you were growing out of these... these... temper tantrums."

Only a month ago, I would've blown up and told him to leave immediately; I might even have rescinded his invitation to my home. Training had changed me, though; my fiery temper was still there, but I could turn it into ice-cold calm when I needed to - like I did now.

"And I thought you were smart enough to work out the Middle Ages are over," I shrugged coldly. "If you want me to go along with this pledge, Eric, just leave. Keep away from me, and when the time comes, I won't fight you. Leave me alone to be happy until you kill me."

"You cannot have us both." His voice was heavy with the accent of a time long past, a land far away. "You cannot keep flaunting your infidelity, I will not allow it. You are _mine_. You cannot have him, you are married to me. You must choose between us, there is no other way."

"I have," I assured him. "If you're giving me a choice, I choose him. If you're not giving me a choice, I'll only go along with that if I can spend the time I have left with him. I never married you, and as for infidelity... why should I be faithful to you, when you fuck your meals every night?"

"They are no threat to you," he shrugged, as though that were a response that made sense. "And they cost me little."

"Well if that's the way it works," I replied tartly, "you'll be pleased to know I've never had to pay Quinn a cent to have sex with me."

Quinn cracked up laughing then, thinking what a wonderful way with words I had. Apparently this was a problem many of the older vampires had; they'd seen double standards between men and women exist for so many centuries, it was taking them a long time to accept that was over. Female vampires were respected because they were seen as vampires first and women second, and strength was determined by age rather than gender, but human women were still seen as property, not people - even more so than human men were.

Eric looked annoyed. "You are my wife. I have money enough to keep you, and I have taken no other wife. You have no cause to leave me."

"It doesn't work like that any more," Quinn explained, knowing I couldn't hold my temper in check much longer.

"Of course it does," Eric snorted. "Wealthy men still keep concubines and employ prostitutes, their wives still allow it. Can you not read? The newspapers are full of human males and their affairs... politicians, princes, businessmen, sportsmen, entertainers... all men who are wealthy enough have them. Or they visit bordellos, or strip clubs. Or vampire bars." He grinned happily at that last one. "It is no longer legal to own bed slaves, but otherwise, all is as it has ever been. Do you deny that rich men still have as many women as they can afford?"

"No, it does still happen," Quinn sighed, "but it's not considered right any more, legally or morally. Besides, most of the women who are OK with that now only want a man for his money or his status... I'd rather be with a woman who wants _me_, not my bank balance."

"You _choose_ to have only one women?" Eric asked incredulously. "But you could afford many. Dozens, perhaps more."

"I can have the best, or I can have the rest," Quinn shrugged. "That's an easy decision for me." His words made me tingle inside.

"So she must contend with all your... _appetites_," Eric's lip curled in an unmistakable look of revulsion. "You inflict your baser desires on her, a woman of worth, when you could afford others for such things... to show her such disrespect..." His expression was fast turning murderous.

"Does what I want matter at all?" I interrupted. "Because being locked up at home in a chastity belt by medieval man while he fucks everyone but me _sucks_, I'd much rather cater to the_ appetites_ of someone who's all mine." I couldn't help but give Quinn an adoring look.

Hearing Eric put it that way had lit a fire in me, and I knew that as soon as Quinn and I were alone, I'd ask him all about his 'appetites'. Were there things the tiger part of him needed, that I hadn't been giving him? I was suddenly determined to satisfy him completely, just as he was willing to give me anything I wanted. He loved being scratched and bitten, and I vowed I'd never again freak out when I saw the marks I left on his body. I wondered if he liked to make love in either of his other forms, and realized that even though doing it when he was all tiger was way too much for me, I could definitely handle his true form, when he had fangs and a tail...

"You think he is a monk?" Eric sneered, interrupting my thoughts. "So he has not told you who he really is, you do not know his past."

"Actually, I do," I replied, glad we'd discussed it that afternoon, however briefly. "You're referring to him sleeping around for a few years."

"Oh, so it is OK that _he _does it, but not me?"

"I don't like it," I admitted, "but I understand why he did it, and he's not like that any more."

Quinn gave me a soft smile, glad I knew him so well.

"Can you be so sure he has changed, lover?" Eric goaded.

"Yes." I was certain.

I could 'hear' it in his thoughts whenever I was near Quinn: he wanted only me. We had been to places where there were other attractive women plenty of times, and while he still appreciated their beauty, they simply didn't spark his desire the way I did. I'd 'heard' him think someone else was pretty or even gorgeous, but I'd never once felt his mind snarl up in that tangle of lust and longing and love he felt whenever he looked at me; nobody else had that same magnetic pull for him. His carnal instincts were all focused on me, constantly telling him to touch me, and kiss me, and rub his skin against mine... to hold me, and love me, and peel my clothes off as soon as I said yes. Whatever his habits had been when he was younger, he really did prefer me over anyone else now.

"It was a long time ago," Quinn explained. "I was young and stupid, and I was basically drunk on my own notoriety back then. But I like what I have now much more. Can you honestly say you don't understand, Eric? Was it worth losing her to have any of those other women? For all of them combined?"

I could swear Eric looked sad for a split-second - deeply, bone-achingly sad - but an instant later, his expression was blank again.

"I have not lost her," he sneered. "She is my wife, not yours."

"WE'RE NOT MARRIED," I yelled, jumping out of my chair. "A pledge isn't a marriage, it's a death pact. You tricked me into this, I didn't want it and you knew that, or you would've asked. It-"

"There was no time!" he protested.

"Right, and there hasn't been a single moment when you could've told me since then, either. You knew I didn't want this. This 'marriage' doesn't mean anything to me and it never will."

"You. Are. Mine," Eric snapped back. "Always." He was glowering at me, no doubt furious I would deny our 'marriage' again.

Talking to him was useless; he saw me as something he owned, like his car or his nightclub, so he didn't treat me like a person with preferences of my own. He expected his car to be right where he parked it when he came back for it, no matter how long he had been gone, and he expected the same from me. If someone took his car while he was away, he would take it back and punish them, and I felt sure that's what he had planned for Quinn, too. I wondered what I could do about that for a few seconds, trying to think of something I could say to him to make him understand my needs, but came up with nothing. I was starting to think rescinding his invitation was the only solution.

In the middle of my thoughts, pain exploded through my right arm, taking my breath away. It first erupted from the two bones in my forearm, then quickly spread higher up as well. I whimpered in agony, rubbing myself as though it might somehow numb the pain. It didn't. I felt as though my arm had been broken, but when I looked down at it, it was fine. It made no sense, to hurt like this for no reason.

"What is wrong?" Eric asked, managing a slightly-concerned expression.

Quinn had already worked out I was unharmed, so he assumed I was feeling someone else's pain telepathically. He could see it wasn't Eric's, so he was racking his brain for anyone else whose pain I would feel as intensely. He came up with only one answer. _Hunter?_ he asked silently.

As soon as he asked, I realized he was right and nodded. Something had happened to Hunter, something bad enough that he couldn't find the words to tell me, so he just sent me his pain telepathically to tell me he needed my help.

_Go to him_, Quinn insisted. _I'll deal with things here._

With a '_pop!' _I went to my nephew's aid, glad to be leaving the tense scene in my living room behind.

* * *

_Author's note: For 900+ of the last thousand years, the views Eric expressed in this chapter were considered perfectly reasonable. (OK, in Europe and America anyway. I decided to assume that's where he lived most of the time, so I didn't have to research the entire world.) No, I'm not making that up. To modern ears, it all sounds appalling, but for a person steeped in those views for most of a millennium, it might take some time to unlearn all that. _


	11. Help

Hunter needed my help so I teleported to him, not knowing where he was or what just happened to him.

I wish I could say what I saw when I got there surprised me, but it didn't. I had taken Hunter to hospital three times, and while his injuries the last couple of times were minor compared to the first, enough of a pattern was emerging that I knew my nephew wasn't safe with his Dad.

I had re-materialized in Remy's living room, standing beside Hunter as his father screamed at him.

My nephew was curled in a tiny ball at my feet, nursing his right arm and crying; the second I saw him, I was weeping too. He was making himself as small as he could, and wrapped in on himself so tightly, he somehow reminded me of the pumpkins my grandfather used to grow... except the pumpkins were larger. Remy towered over him, looking ten times his child's size. I couldn't begin to fathom his actions.

Remy was so stunned when I appeared that he stopped for a moment, giving me just long enough to figure out what was going on. Then he lunged at me, his hands reaching for my neck. I easily reacted in time, throwing him across the room telekinetically and sticking him to the wall, so he couldn't harm Hunter or I any more.

"This is your fucking fault," Remy screamed. "You brought that freak into my house, you gave him the idea. He'd be OK if it weren't for you."

I tried to ignore him as he kept ranting about how terrible I was and blaming me for what he'd done to his son, but I was so upset I couldn't bear to listen to him. I had an idea and held up the same hand I used to throw him across the room. I clapped the fingers and thumb together and his mouth closed, stopping his tirade. I almost smiled when he glared back at me, utterly enraged.

That gave me time to kneel beside Hunter and look him over. I could feel how much his arm hurt him, but the physical pain wasn't what made him curl up in a ball and cry. He was in a state of mental overload, ever-shifting visions of the future overwhelming his young mind. He had no ability to shield yet, and right now the future had been destabilized somehow, so he was having to deal with a dozen times as many possible futures as he usually did. He couldn't cope with it and was near-catatonic as his mind tried in vain to keep up.

I rested my hands on either side of his head and gently tilted his face up so he was looking at me. The terror in his eyes was heartbreaking.

"You're gonna be OK, sweetie," I murmured. "I can help you."

Over all the noise in his mind, my words barely registered. I lowered my forehead to his and slipped into his mind, experiencing the vertiginous feeling of a future in flux for myself. It reminded me of the time my parents took me to a concert in Shreveport when I was six. Sitting in the audience of four hundred excited children and their parents, I was almost catatonic, too; the mental noise was overwhelming. I curled into a ball and stuck my fingers in my ears the whole time, trying to keep out some of the din, but it didn't help. My parents urged me to sit up and try to look normal, but I couldn't; I didn't have the leftover energy to pretend to be OK. Feeling that overloaded again, my stomach lurched and for a few moments, my own mind was just as lost as Hunter's, trying to deal with it all.

As my human self proved unable to cope, I shifted into fairy form. Somehow that made it better; I could see the fast-changing future from the outside as well as the inside now - it was just like checking the weather so I could pull energy from the sky without causing storms - and I was finally able to detach myself from it. Then I tried to quiet the noise in Hunter's mind. In my first three attempts, I simply couldn't hold back the deluge, but the fourth time, I quieted it for a few moments. Finally, on my fifth attempt, I created a shield that worked. We could both feel the chaos on the other side of it, but part of his mind was completely clear now, letting him think clearly again.

As soon as the shield was in place, I shifted back to human form smoothly, not wanting to freak Remy out any more if I could help it.

In Hunter's memories, I saw what happened to him tonight. He had been trying to shape-shift, because he had seen Quinn do it once and though it was the coolest thing ever. This evening, he finally succeeded. He was really happy about that... until his father walked in and caught him. He had changed just one arm, the same way Quinn did when he came here with me a few weeks ago. I knew that was much harder than shifting fully, but Hunter had never seen a whole tiger in the flesh, so he didn't know what to do with the rest of his body. When his father saw his arm turn into a tiger's front leg, he grabbed it with one hand and hit it with all his might using the other, first breaking both bones in his son's lower arm, then the one in his upper arm.

The most horrifying thing was the thoughts Hunter had to listen to as his father did it; his Dad was convinced that breaking his son's arm was necessary to protect him. He felt sure that if Hunter ever changed in front of other people, the rumors that there was something wrong with him would be known to be true, and the Fellowship would come after him. Remy thought breaking his arm was 'teaching him a lesson he'll never forget', convinced it was the most effective way to make sure his son never shifted again. He had even told the terrified child that he was being merciful; that anyone else who saw him "turn into a beast like that" would do far worse. Needless to say, I didn't agree it was necessary, and I knew most humans had more-or-less accepted shifters – far more than they would ever accept telepaths, I felt sure.

I gingerly examined Hunter's arm, knowing he had to go to hospital right away. I was just about to tell him that when he started screaming at me telepathically.

_You have to go back!_ he yelled silently. _Go back, now!_

_Hunter, you're hurt, I'm here to help you. Just-_

_NO!_ he insisted. _They're going to fight. You have to stop them. When Quinn kills Eric, the future all goes wrong. He can't die!_

It made no sense; if they did fight, I knew Eric would be the one to win; he was stronger by far.

_He's not,_ my nephew insisted. _He closed the bond. He's weak now. He doesn't know. He's hurt, too. Go back, please._

_But your Dad-_ I started, and Hunter interrupted me again.

_He can't move 'til you let him. Go. I'll be OK until you get back._

I was still skeptical, so he did the only thing that would convince me: he started showing me the futures he had seen. In the most likely one, Eric and Quinn were about to start fighting at my place; fighting over me. He showed me that if it happened, there was a high chance I'd be dead by the end of the night, too. Remy was determined to kill me, convinced Hunter would be normal once he was free of my bad influence, and depending on what he tried (Hunter had seen over a dozen possibilities already, and Remy was still coming up with new ideas), Eric would most likely be the only one who could save me. He also showed me how much trouble I'd have convincing Remy to let Hunter come live with me, and how easy it would be for Eric to glamor him into it.

It had taken him less than a second to show me all of it, and I now knew I had to convince the two idiot males not to fight.

_I'll be back real soon_, I promised.

_I know_, he smiled.

I made sure he could keep the mental shields in place without my help so his visions wouldn't overwhelm him again, and after two attempts, they held. I kissed him on the forehead and teleported back home.

When I popped back into my living room, it was exactly as Hunter had seen: Eric and Quinn were circling each other menacingly. They were so focused on threatening one another that they failed to notice me entirely, despite the loud '_pop!'_ when I appeared.

"Cut it out," I ordered. "Both of you, stop it."

They each turned to face me, wearing identical surprised-but-determined expressions. I shook my head in annoyance.

"But he-" Eric started.

"I don't care," I snapped. "You're both old enough to know better. It doesn't matter what you're fighting about, I had to interrupt my fairy god-mothering to come stop you killing each other, and that makes you both gigantic pains in my ass, as well as idiots."

"Sorry, babe," Quinn apologized, ashamed of himself. "How did it go? You're back much sooner than I expected."

I was just about to answer when Eric cracked up laughing. "You are a fairy godmother?" he guffawed. "You? You still need one yourself."

I turned to glare at him and noticed his right hand was oddly bent out of shape, bones clearly broken. I rolled my eyes at him in annoyance.

In a clever twist on a standard sanctuary spell, Amelia had warded the house so anyone who attempted violence took the force of the blow themselves. Usually, sanctuary spells stop attacks altogether so nobody is hurt, dissipating the force of every blow - but it takes a lot of magical power to do that, as the force of each blow has to be un-made, effectively. By redirecting the force back to the attacker instead, the ward required much less power to work, making it far more stable and longer-lasting. The spell couldn't be exhausted through simple persistence; anyone who kept trying would beat themselves to death long before the magic was exhausted.

As well as being such a strong ward, the spell she dreamed up was also a great deterrent - fights stopped as soon as everyone saw what happened to the person who threw the first punch. That meant only the person who started the fight was harmed... and today, that was Eric.

He saw me staring at his hand and started explaining. "If you heard what he-"

"I don't care," I reiterated, "I just want you to stop. If you won't do it for me, do it for yourself; you can get hurt, you know."

Watching Eric meet his final death at Quinn's hands in Hunter's vision had upset me enough to want to stop it, no matter what it took. I really hoped Eric would listen to me, although he mostly seemed amused by the idea of a shifter getting the better of him. Quinn was staring at me silently, wondering what Hunter had seen that had me so convinced that Eric would get hurt if they fought each other.

_What happened to Hunter?_ Quinn asked, subtly fishing for details.

He walked over to me and took my hand so I could project my thoughts back to him, in case I wanted to reply silently. I did.

_He shifted for the first time_, I answered. _He did exactly what you did when you visited him; changed just one arm. _

_Wow, that's incredible_, he replied, impressed Hunter had done something so difficult.

_Yeah, but his Dad caught him and broke his arm in a couple places. I've got to get him out of there, away from his father._

_How awful_, he commiserated. _Can I help at all?_

I shook my head sadly. Eric's amusement was long gone, and he was fuming with anger instead.

"I see what you are doing," he snarled. "Tell me what you are discussing."

"I just asked her about her fairy godmother duties," Quinn shrugged, careful not to say or even imply that I could project back to him.

_Ask him to help you_, Hunter urged in my head, interrupting the conversation. _Tell Eric you need his help._

I dropped Quinn's hand then, to signal that it wasn't a good time for him to 'talk' silently to me.

Hunter had seen many possible outcomes to the talk I was about to have with Remy, where I would try to convince him to let his son live with me. In most of them, I died. Remy was determined to kill me to free his son from my supposed bad influence so he'd be normal again. He had come up with a dozen ideas of how to do it already, and was still dreaming up more. Defending against so many different possible attacks at once was hard, especially when Hunter couldn't get a clear fix on the future to help guide me.

Hunter was convinced I would die if Eric didn't help me, but I was more optimistic. I was pretty sure that between two telepaths - both with assorted fairy powers and one also a seer - we could stop one angry human from killing me.

Besides, I would die before I let Eric know about Hunter. If I, a mere telepath, was valuable enough that he would trick me into agreeing to be turned, what would he do to get hold of a seer as powerful as my nephew? Quinn had told me how limited the powers of everyone in the Clairvoyant's Guild were - seeing one random scene from one possible future was all most of them could do - and my part-fairy nephew was already more powerful at age four-and-three-quarters than the most powerful Guild member, by a very wide margin. I didn't want to know what Eric would do to secure Hunter's gift for his own use.

_He'll be one of my Dads_, Hunter answered my thoughts_. He'll look after me and protect me_._ He won't let any other vampire know about me. Except Pam and James. He'll keep it from Bill, even. He'll get hurt to save us, lots of times. He won't do it just so I help him, either. He'll love me and care for me. He won't ask me to help much. He'll want me to be a kid still, like you do. He'll be a good Dad._

I couldn't help but sigh aloud. _Hunter, I know Eric can be sweet sometimes_, _but he's still a vampire, and vampires are _all_ twisty and deceptive. They can't help it; it's their nature. You can't ever trust a vampire. Not ever. Please, promise me you won't tell him?_

_No!_ he yelled in my mind. _Eric loves you, and he loves me too, after he meets me tonight. He has to come and help, or you die. You promised you'd let me protect you._

_I did, and you've done great, sweetie_, I praised him. _But we're gonna find a way for you and I to save ourselves, without involving Eric._

I pulled up a partial shield between my mind and his then, for the first time ever, to tell him the discussion was over. It wasn't a strong shield - he could easily push through it if he needed me - but the threat of being cut off from the only person who truly understood his 'gift' was enough to quiet him. I hated myself for making that threat, but I had to keep him safe from Eric, at any cost.

"You are talking to someone else," Eric muttered then. "This silent conversation is not with Quinn. Who are you talking to, Sookie?"

"None of your business," I snapped, before I could think better of it.

"So there is another telepath in town. I will find them," he threatened. "I could use another telepath. One who knows their place."

"No!" I yelled, horrified by the thought of him getting to Hunter. "You leave him alone, Eric."

"So it is a male," he grinned triumphantly. "You have already narrowed down my search by half. I will locate him in no time."

"No, you won't," I replied, my voice icy. "If you find him, I will kill you."

He laughed at me again. "And how will you do that, lover?" he chuckled. "I am stronger than you, faster, a better fighter. You won't-"

"You're practically helpless during the day," I interrupted, " so I will find your daytime resting place, and I will stake you in your sleep. I have vampire GPS from the blood bond, so I can find you easily enough. If you threaten him ever again, I will find you and kill you."

He looked at me for a long moment, and I could feel him probing the bond deeply, testing my resolve. "You mean it," he finally marveled.

"Yes."

"You would kill me to protect another man."

Hunter wasn't yet a man, but I wasn't about to tell Eric that. "Yes," was all I said.

He stared at me in shock for a long moment. "You really are a fairy godmother," he finally concluded. "You would kill to protect your charge."

"Yes," I agreed, "and I have work to do. I have to stop you two from fighting while I'm gone, though. I can stick you both to the wall and leave you there until I get back, or you can both promise not to fight, and keep that promise. Which is it going to be?"

"I won't fight him," Quinn promised instantly. "You have my word. Go back, he needs you."

"Fine," Eric huffed, "I won't either. It is no fun to kill someone who does not fight back."

"Good," I concluded, and popped straight back to Hunter, hoping he had come up with a plan to keep me alive.


	12. Fate

When I reappeared in Remy's living room, Hunter immediately told me to leave again.

_You have to go back! _he screamed silently. _Please, go back._

_What's wrong this time? _I asked, annoyed.

Hunter was still curled in a tiny ball on the floor, nursing his broken arm and sobbing silently. I was here to help him - to get him the medical care he needed, and get his father to send him to live with me, so nothing like this could happen ever again. I had sworn to protect him, but instead of letting me do that, he kept sending me back to break up fights between a thousand year old vampire and a thirty-three year old weretiger, both of whom should know better. I would babysit my nephew happily, but babysitting two grown men was annoying in the extreme. I didn't want to go back again; if they were determined to kill each other, good luck to them.

_He'll get killed here_, Hunter corrected me. _By the police, not Eric. He'll know when you're dying. The fairy bond will tell him. But he'll get here too late. He'll go nuts when he sees you dead. He'll kill Daddy. The police will find a tiger eating my Dad and shoot him. Please, go back and make him stay at your place? Only Eric can get here in time. You have to ask him to help, not Quinn. He can fly here fast enough._

Hunter's thoughts were a panicked jumble, even with his visions held behind the shield I created for him. He 'told' me his predictions so fast it took me a few seconds to understand what he was saying, but when I did, I was horrified. I was sure he and I would find a way to stay alive, to not get killed by his father, no matter how determined he was. But if we didn't... I shuddered at the thought and went to push it away again... until I realized that if there was any possibility I wasn't coming back, I owed it to Quinn to say goodbye.

I rested my hands against Hunter's face and carefully slipped behind his shields, to have another look at what might happen next. By looking at only a very small sub-set of his visions, I could hold off the vertigo that threatened to overwhelm me before. Remy had made up his mind to kill me, but he hadn't worked out how yet. He kept changing his plans, and that meant Hunter's visions kept shifting, the probability of each possible outcome changing many times per second. It was dizzying to watch, but with careful concentration, I found out what I needed to know.

I could save Hunter.

I would be risking my own life, but if I allowed Remy down from where he was stuck to the wall, the police would be called and the abuse he inflicted on his son would be revealed, whether he succeeded in hurting me or not. That was good. Once Hunter was away from his father, he would need Quinn to protect him and help him with his abilities, whether I survived or not. When I saw the possible futures in Hunter's mind, I was doubly touched to see how wonderful Frannie would be with him; she would be the one to make sure he had a childhood if I wasn't there, the one to take him out to kick balls around, climb trees, build sandcastles and do all the other things kids should get a chance to do.

It took me barely a second to make up my mind. I couldn't just leave Remy stuck to the wall and take Hunter away; the police would hunt me down and send him back to his father. I had to resolve this tonight; Hunter's broken arm gave me the best chance to get him out of here that I would ever get. If I didn't succeed tonight, Remy would do all the same things his own father did to get away with harming his sons, and Hunter's injuries would always be readily explained from now on. He would be just another accident-prone child, always falling off things and breaking limbs, slipping with knives and cutting himself, being careless in the kitchen and getting burnt...

Remy would move to a house with stairs, just so he could threaten his son with another trip down them when he 'misbehaved', i.e. did anything remotely supernatural. He would take his son to doctor after doctor, trying to find out why he was so 'accident-prone', knowing the whole time he was inflicting his son's injuries himself. Hunter would go through so many awful things at his hands that I couldn't bear to look at them all - and I was only looking at the next three years.

I couldn't let him suffer like that.

If I had to give my own life to save Hunter, that was a worthy sacrifice - much better than being killed by my vampire ex-boyfriend so he could boss me around forever.

_He won't do that_, Hunter told me.

_No, he wont_, I agreed. _I won't let him. I'm gonna go talk to Quinn, OK? I'll be back soon, I promise._

Hunter nodded. _Ask Eric to come help, please?_ he begged.

I ignored him and popped home again.

* * *

This time, Eric and Quinn were both sitting down in my living room. The atmosphere was still tense, but at least they weren't threatening each other now. I was pleased to see they had both kept their promise, so far.

"You are back again," Eric asked suspiciously. "Does your charge not need you after all? Or is there nothing you can do for him?"

"I have to deal with something here first," I replied. "I need to talk to Quinn alone. Can you please go into the kitchen for a few minutes?"

Eric went to protest, but when he saw the look on my face he left quietly.

As soon as Eric was gone, I snapped my fingers, gluing Quinn to the seat he was sitting in. A moment later I snapped them again, changing the spell so he could move just his arms. Then I realized the magic I used to stick him there would last indefinitely, which would be bad if I didn't make it back to release him. I snapped my fingers a third time, so he would be released automatically half an hour after I died.

He wriggled and twitched, working out what I'd done to him. _Why are you doing this?_ he asked angrily when he realized he couldn't move.

I looked him in the eye and walked across the room to him, steeling myself to say goodbye.

_You're not coming back_, he guessed. _You're going to die._

_It's not definite_, I projected, as soon as my hand touched his. _I might make it back, I might not._

_I'm coming with you_, he insisted.

I sat down on his lap and arranged myself carefully, knowing this would be a hard discussion. He put his hands on either side of my face and pulled me towards him, so our noses were just a few inches apart.

_Whatever is about to happen, I'll face it with you_, he told me. _Let me go so I can help you, please babe._

I shook my head slightly. _Just hear me out first._

He looked at me expectantly, willing to listen, even though he'd already made up his mind that he was coming with me, no matter what I said.

_Hunter's going to need you_, I started. _If I don't make it back - and it is an 'if', I promise - the police will take his father away. __But Remy learned all his ideas about disciplining kids from his own father, and his parents will want to take Hunter. You can't let them do that, you have to care for him if I'm not here to do it. __Tell the child protection people you were my fiancee and you want to look after him because I died trying to save him from his father, so he's all you have left of me. Take Frannie with you to meet them, she'll tell them you raised her and that'll sway them in your favor, especially when they see how much he loves you both. Once he's in your care, take him far away, some place nobody knows us._

_You're the only one who can do this_, I added. _You're the only one who can protect him. Even if I make it back, I can't keep him safe alone. I need your help... especially because he just found out he can shape-shift. He could become a cute, non-threatening collie like Sam, but he saw you shift, so he wants to be a tiger. You're the only one who can convince him to learn to be other things, too. Please, do this for me?_

_I will_, he promised, _but you don't have to die for me to take care of him. Please, let me come with you._

_You can't get there in time_, I explained._ It will all be over by the time you arrive. Seeing me dead... you'll go nuts, kill Remy and get shot by the police. You'll die. Frannie still needs you, and Hunter needs you, and your Mom needs you... you can't get killed for me._

_But __I__ need __yo__u_, he begged, tears running down his face. _Please, don't go. We'll find another way._

_I'm trying_, I promised. _I'm looking for another way, and so is Hunter. I won't just let him kill me. But if he does... I owe it to you to say goodbye._

He nodded in understanding then, realizing how highly I must regard him to leave Hunter in his care. He felt honored that I trusted him so much.

_Is this the only way for Hunter to be OK?_ he asked. _Do you have to risk your life like this?_

I hesitated for half a second, thinking of what Hunter said about Eric being able to save me, before I told him _Yes_, emphatically.

_Eric could get to you in time_, he accused, reading a bit more from my mind than I wanted him to. _That's why Hunter told you to ask for his help before_, he added, and I realized he had overheard Hunter 'talking' to me earlier, too. _He could fly there and save you._

_Yes_, I admitted, _but then he'll know about Hunter. Promise me you'll keep Hunter away from vampires, no matter what? Promise me you won't let him end up in the same mess we've both been in? Please?_

He nodded, defeated. He saw no way around this, even though letting me face death alone went against his every instinct.

"I love you," I whispered. "I've loved you as long as I've known you."

He wrapped his arms around me tightly, holding my body against his as he sobbed. A lump in his throat stopped him speaking, but he was pushing all his love to me mentally, letting me feel exactly what I meant to him. I hadn't known until that moment; he'd been frightened his feelings would scare me off, so he'd carefully kept from thinking certain things around me: That he was certain I was his soul mate. That he felt sure we were fated to be together. That seeing me across a crowded room that first time had turned his life upside down. That when I woke to find him sitting in my room the morning after the takeover, he had waited to talk to me so he would have one last chance to watch me sleep, knowing he might never get to see me like that again. He needed the memory of me looking so relaxed and peaceful to go on without me.

He had many more memories to keep him going now, and that made me feel marginally better. I was glad I let him spend so many nights in my bed, holding me as I slept, even before I let him back into my bed in a more carnal sense. I was glad I fell asleep on his shoulder in front movies so many times, knowing how fondly he would recall the feel of me resting against him. I was glad I had claimed him as my own, formally accepting all he offered me in the custom of both shifters and fairies. I was glad we made love so many times in the last three days, giving physical expression to all the things we felt for one another. I was glad to have experienced his love, however fleetingly, and I was glad I had given him all I could in return.

Tears formed in my eyes as I realized what I had; what I would come back to if I survived; what he would live without if I didn't. Then I remembered the pledge; my obligation to die when Eric wanted me to, so he could keep me forever, whether I wanted that or not.

I couldn't find the words to tell Quinn how I felt about him, but my fingers traced the scar on his neck and he knew. That scar was forever; an eternal symbol of what we had shared, albeit for such a brief time.

_I love you_, I finally managed. _The time we've had together... it's been the happiest of my life, and I'm so sorry it has to end. I'm going to leave this world on my own terms though, for a worthwhile purpose. I won't be turned into a monster. It has to be like this. I'm sorry._

When he looked at me again, his regard for me had been completely restored (and then some) from the shock of finding out about the pledge an hour or so earlier.

_I hope you've been on the path long enough_, he told me. _I hope they make you an angel. You deserve it, babe._

I sobbed my heart out then, wishing I didn't have to do this, that I could spend a little longer with this wonderful man. Heck, I wished I could stay right here and grow old with him... but we both knew that wasn't to be. Saving Hunter was important enough to be worthy of our sacrifice.

I kissed him goodbye; perfect, pure love flowing between us as we each savored what would likely be our last moments together.

I heard Eric walk into the room behind us and clear his throat loudly, telling us we'd had all the time alone he would give us. I couldn't bring myself to look at him; couldn't tear my eyes from the man who wanted me to be an angel, to look at a man who would turn me into a monster.

Quinn gave me one last smile, his cheeks dimpling deeply as he gazed at me lovingly, his beautiful purple eyes still full of tears.

I smiled back and pressed my lips to his, sinking into his arms one last time.

Then I teleported back to Hunter, ready to meet my fate.


	13. Battle

When I reappeared in Remy's living room, Hunter was right where I left him, curled in a tiny ball on the floor, cradling his broken arm. He was hurting too much to cry now; the shields I helped him construct to keep his visions at bay had collapsed in my absence, while he tried to figure out ways for me to survive every single thing his father might throw at me. He was so overwhelmed he could barely whimper.

I knelt next to him and helped him put the shields back up, so he didn't have to feel possible futures spreading out in a million directions any more. I didn't understand why the whole world's future was in such a state of flux tonight; what events could generate such uncertainty? I felt sure I'd read about them in the papers tomorrow. A natural disaster, like Katrina or the Asian tsunami a few years ago? A man-made disaster like the Gulf oil spill? Another terrorist attack? One more war in the Middle East or Africa? Some horrible political event somewhere? I didn't know if any of those could make the future as uncertain as it was, though... maybe all of them were happening at once, this evening?

_No_, Hunter told me when the shields took hold, allowing him to think clearly again. _It's you. You're important, Aunt Sookie. You have to live._

_I'll do my best, sweetie_, I promised, knowing that even if I was the center of Hunter's world right now, I wasn't the center of _the_ world. _Even if I don't, you'll be OK. Quinn will take care of you, just like you saw in your head._

I was relieved he wasn't sending me away again; that there was nothing else I had to deal with at home before I could take care of him. That's what was really important: making sure he was safe, even if the price I paid for his safety was my life.

_But you're the Miss Airy_, he told me seriously. _You have to live, or there'll be a war._

He was trying to tell me something important, I could feel that, but I was busy working out how to deal with his father. I had to convince him to let Hunter come live with me, without letting him kill me along the way. If Hunter's visions were correct, that was going to be tough.

Remy was stuck to the wall right where I left him, his mouth still glued closed. If he was angry when I put him there, he was apoplectic (word of the day last week) now. His face was bright red and he glared at me. _If looks could kill..._ I thought to myself.

"Remy," I said gently, "I think we need to talk about Hunter's future. Doing this to your own son," I knelt down and gingerly helped Hunter hold his arm out, showing how badly broken it was, "isn't OK. I don't think he should stay with you right now. You should let me care for him."

_You'll never get your hands on my son, bitch_, he was thinking. _I'll kill him before I let you make him any more of a freak._

I sighed loudly. "I didn't make him like this, Remy. If you want someone to blame, Niall's the one who activated all of Hunter's fairy powers. He did the same thing to me, and I don't know if it was a wise decision, but it's done now and we can't go back. But even if he hadn't, we were both already telepathic. Neither of us had any chance of being 'normal', we're both different to other people. Hunter still needs to be loved and cared for, though. He certainly doesn't deserve to be hurt like this. He didn't choose to be different, and he can't stop being who he is."

Nothing I said was getting through to Remy; he was so furious about being stuck to the wall and magically gagged that he wasn't willing to listen to me. I couldn't see my motivations for letting him go when I saw this in Hunter's visions; his telepathy and his visions were separate, so he couldn't 'hear' what people were thinking in the future, he just saw what they said and did. That was usually a good thing - his gifts would be even less manageable if he had to listen to everything people ever had or would think - but in this case, I could have used some warning. I had planned to make myself safer by leaving Remy as he was while I talked him into sending Hunter to me, so he couldn't move to hurt me. Now I knew it wouldn't work that way; as my prisoner, he was completely unwilling to listen to me.

"I know you're going to try to kill me," I said, looking him square in the eye, "and you should know that Quinn, the big tiger guy you hate so much, has been teaching me to fight. I could break both your knees and both your collarbones in under thirty seconds, and if you try anything, I will. I'll let you land just enough blows to make it clear that you attacked me first, and then I'll take you down."

_Sure, girly_, he was thinking. _Like you could hurt me. I've got a full head of height and at least fifty pounds on you. Your oversized rack won't help you with this one._

"No, it won't," I laughed. "But being able to throw you around without touching you will. So will this."

I clicked my fingers and used my outfit-changing powers to put a set of restraints around his wrists, binding his hands together in front of him. It was a trick Quinn taught me; using leather cuffs that left no marks so I could take down an attacker more easily, then make them disappear so I could attribute my win completely to good luck and decent self-defence skills. Remy finally had the sense to look a little frightened of me.

"That's not all I can do," I told him seriously. "You really should think twice before you try anything. We need to talk about Hunter, so I'm going to let you go, but if you try anything I can put you right back there in under a second. I can do a lot of other, worse things, too."

I contemplated giving him a big jolt of pain, letting him feel what his son was feeling for a few seconds, but his thoughts were already a tangle of revulsion and fear. He hadn't changed his mind about killing me, but he'd discounted most of his plans now, figuring they wouldn't work. I still had to have my wits about me, but I doubted he'd try anything rash now.

Of course, I was wrong.

I snapped my fingers and Remy was released from his magical bindings, sliding down the wall until his feet were on the floor again. I left the restraints on his wrists for now, but clicked my fingers a second time so he could speak.

"You God-damned freak," he spat as he lunged towards me, his hands reaching for my neck to strangle me.

He had the element of surprise because he literally acted without thinking, but he still had no hope of landing a blow. After sparring with Quinn so much, Remy seemed to be moving in slow motion, telegraphing his moves so far in advance I felt like I could file my nails while I waited. I rolled my eyes and dodged him easily, tripping him so he fell over his coffee table and landed head-first on his couch. I was already clear of his limbs and had turned to watch him before he finished falling.

He rolled over quickly, thinking I would jump on him in retaliation. He was thinking it wasn't a fair fight because his hands were restrained and mine weren't. I snapped my fingers and the restraints disappeared; I wanted to make it clear exactly how out-matched he was here.

"It's still not a fair fight," I told him. "I don't have to touch you to kill you."

Unfortunately that gave him an idea, and he started throwing things at me in frustration. Remote controls, coffee mugs, beer bottles, Hunter's toys, dirty plates, discarded shoes... every piece of detritus in the disorderly living room was hurled at me in turn. I flung each one back at him with a crisp flick of my wrist, so he was the one who got pelted with all the junk. I had to hold back a lot though; my telekinetic abilities were strong enough now that I could easily have killed him with any of those objects, just by putting enough force behind them. I knew the neighbors would call the police soon though, and I didn't want him to look as though he'd been in a fight, so I couldn't throw anything hard enough that it would even bruise him.

I did manage to make Remy look like a slob though, by spilling the dregs from his beer bottles and coffee mugs onto his shirt when they hit him, and making a couple of dirty plates he threw wipe themselves across the front of it. By the time his throwing arm got tired and he gave up on hurling things at me, he looked as though he had been on a week-long bender without ever changing his clothes. I knew that wasn't far from the truth; he had been drinking heavily recently, as evidenced by the number of empty beer bottles on his living room floor. I was pretty sure the police would report his filthy state to social services, when they were eventually called.

The living room looked unfit for human habitation now. Objects were strewn all over the room, and despite my best efforts not to smash anything (I didn't want shards of glass flying around the room while Hunter huddled in the middle of it) a few beer bottles had shattered. The room reminded me of some of the living rooms I had seen in the Seattle bombing, the only noticeable difference being that all four walls were still intact... although the large front window was broken, because a beer bottle Remy threw at me had missed and smashed through it.

His rage that I stuck him to the wall and made him shut up for so long was now mixed with a dented ego, because being unable to land a single blow in the fifteen or so minutes he'd been trying to hurt me made him feel impotent. His frustration that his once-beloved son was turning into "such a freak" (his thoughts on the matter, not mine) had been enough to drive him to violence alone. Add his rage and frustration - plus the ten beers he's drunk that afternoon and evening - and he was a very determined, albeit completely inept, attacker.

He picked up the big wooden coffee table that sat in front of the couch and lunged at me, trying to body-slam me with it. I dodged and gave him a small telekinetic push that sent him sailing out through the smashed window, landing on top of it in his front yard. He had the attention of the whole neighborhood now; I could hear the buzz of their thoughts as they peered through their windows, concluding that he was drunk and crazy. They were right. I 'heard' two of them call the police, and knew I was running out of time to talk to Remy, if I were to convince him to let Hunter live with me.

Only one of the neighbors had the guts to approach Remy as he lay on the smashed coffee table in his front yard, cursing and screaming.

"Fuck off, Rob," he snarled as his neighbor approached.

I peeked around the torn curtains to watch. Rob was tallish - not as tall as Eric, let alone Quinn, but still taller than most men; perhaps six foot - and the expression that came to mind was 'built like a brick shit house.' He didn't have a defined physique, but his whole body was big, and it was clear that under the thick layer of padding, there was plenty of muscle. He had hands so calloused I could see them from where I hid a few yards away, which made me think he must be a brick layer or something like that. He certainly had that look about him, wearing an outfit that would be at home on any building site: jeans, boots and a wife beater. His thoughts and manner told me he was a gentle giant though; a man who looked so big and tough that nobody would pick a fight with him; a man who could usually break up a fight simply by telling the participants to stop, and often did so.

I immediately liked him, and I knew that if Amelia were here, she'd be drooling. He wasn't handsome, but his close-cropped light brown hair was unmistakably masculine and his bright blue eyes twinkled, set amongst abundant laugh lines. She thought of men like him as 'a bit of rough trade' and got a kick out of seeing 'blue collar' men on the ludicrously expensive Frette sheets she pinched from her father when she moved out of home. Something about bedding a working class guy on her rich Dad's thousand-dollar sheets turned her on.

"Remy," Rob greeted him cautiously. "You OK, mate? You just went through a window."

"I'm fuckin' fine," Remy snapped, picking himself up off the ground. "We gonna have a problem?"

"How's the little guy doin'?" Rob ignored his threat.

"Fuckin' freak turned into a fuckin' tiger in my fuckin' living room! But I showed him, he won't pull that shit on me again."

Rob noticed blood on Remy's temple, which I hadn't seen because he was facing away from me. He realized at the same moment I did that Remy must have hit his head on the concrete path when he fell down. His thoughts were an even bigger mess than they had been before, and I knew he was concussed. _Perfect_, I thought. _Like that's gonna make him more reasonable..._

"Let's get you inside," Rob suggested, leading the way and hoping Remy would follow. He did.

I slipped into the kitchen just as Rob walked into the living room, almost-closing the door between the two rooms. If I teleported away, he would hear the loud _'pop!'_ so I thought it better to just hide, if I could. The door was open a crack so I could watch what was happening, and I saw the horror on Rob's face when he noticed Hunter, still curled in a tiny ball in the middle of the floor. He crouched down to check him over.

"Are you OK?" he asked, already knowing what the answer would be.

"My arm hurts," Hunter told him.

He examined Hunter's arm gently and was appalled by what he saw.

"What happened?" he asked, again knowing the answer before he asked.

"My Dad."

That's when Remy walked in, carrying a thick wooden leg that had broken off the coffee table. Acting completely without thinking, he raised it and began to swing. I flung the door open automatically, instinctively wanting to help this stranger.

_NO!_ Hunter yelled. _Let him!_

I hesitated for a split-second, and by then it was too late. I wasn't prepared for this; I expected Remy to hurt me, but I had heard in his thoughts that he and Rob were friends, so I didn't think he'd hurt him. Remy was badly concussed though, and was lashing out at everyone. He must have been a great ball player in high school, judging by the way he swung the 'bat', the way the tip connected with his neighbor's head and the amount of force behind it when he did. Rob's skull crunched sickeningly and he went down hard, narrowly missing Hunter.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I hissed, as Remy turned towards me.

He swung at me and I popped away, reappearing on the other side of the room. He stepped right over Rob's body to come after me, thinking it served his friend right for interfering in family business. As far as Remy was concerned, nobody had the right to stop him 'disciplining' his kid however he wanted to. _You don't know what it's like to have a freak for a son_, he thought to himself.

I dodged his makeshift weapon a couple more times, then teleported back to the other side of the room. I was trying to work out what to do, frustrated that I didn't already know. I was trained to end a fight by putting down an attacker so they wouldn't get back up again. When I told Remy I could break both his knees and both his collar bones in thirty seconds, the only thing I was exaggerating was the time it would take. Really, it was unlikely to take me more than ten seconds... but I knew I really only needed to break his right collarbone and one knee to stop him, which I could do in a swift one-two... so even including the time to find the right opening to do it, I could have ended this fight in well under five seconds. But unfortunately, if I did, the police would have questions about who attacked Remy, and that would be bad.

I considered my options as he came after me again, stopping only to push Hunter into the corner telekinetically, because Remy almost trampled him as he rushed towards me. I could stick him to the wall again and leave him there until the cops came... but then he wouldn't listen to me when I tried to convince him to let me look after Hunter. I could give up on convincing him and try to convince social services instead. Or I could take him down in some way that would look like he'd injured himself. That seemed like the best idea, so when he swung the table leg at me again, I tripped him, sending him slamming into the cupboard in the corner of the room.

I silently cheered as I heard the distinctive crunch of a shoulder dislocating and a tendon snapping. It was his left shoulder, which wasn't ideal, but he would have to wield the table leg one-handed now. That meant there wouldn't be as much force behind his blows, his aim wouldn't be as good, and I would be able to take it off him more easily. But I also felt his triumph when he saw the cupboard door had been forced inwards when he hit it, breaking off the lock as well as the door's edges. He tugged the door open quickly with his other arm, grabbing at something inside that he was convinced gave him the upper-hand in this fight, thinking _Now you die, bitch_.

Whatever he just grabbed, I knew I needed to take it off him quickly. When he swung around to face me, I saw exactly why: he had a gun.

My blood ran cold. I raised my hand and gave a tug telekinetically, trying to pull it from his hand. Then I saw that his finger was already on the trigger and stopped just in time. If I'd moved it forward just a fraction more, it would have fired.

He grinned triumphantly as he lined up his shot, then squeezed the trigger. He was aiming for my heart, and he knew what he was doing.

_Oh, shit_, I thought as the gun went off.


	14. King Eric

Remy was clearly an experienced hunter; he lined up the shot to my heart automatically and immediately squeezed the trigger. Hunter was screaming loudly, but I couldn't make out his words.

_Oh, shit_, I thought as the gun went off, my eyes closing involuntarily.

There was no time to dodge. I kept my eyes closed, not wanting to see the triumph on Remy's face as he killed me. I couldn't save myself now, but the police had been called and when they saw what he did to his friend and his son in a drunken rage, I was certain they would call child protective services to have Hunter removed. Finding Hunter's aunt dead in the house as well would only add to the case that he was too violent and alcoholic to have a child in his care, so I had succeeded in what was important: saving my nephew from his father.

I wasn't sorry to die this way. I knew I would have to sacrifice myself to help Hunter tonight and I had chosen it willingly. I would gladly die to save someone I love. It was a nice bonus that Eric wouldn't be able to turn me if I was already dead, so doing this also saved me from an eternity of vampire crap. I had said goodbye to Quinn, and I knew he would take good care of Hunter for me. It was my dying wish for him to look after my nephew, and he was honorable enough to keep his word.

I was at peace.

I felt no pain, not even when a second shot rang out, and I was thankful for that.

It was taking me longer than I expected to slip away though, and I began to wonder if this was going to be slow and painful after all.

"Enough," said a familiar icy voice, shocking me out of my thoughts. My eyes snapped open, and I was stunned by who I saw. Eric.

I stared at him in shock. He was directly between Remy and I, standing about a yard from each of us, facing away from me. I glanced down and realized I wasn't going to die. I was completely unharmed; Eric had taken bullets meant for me, yet again.

"Make it look like an accident!" Hunter yelled. "Cops are coming."

Eric moved faster than I could follow, and I didn't realize what he had just done until Remy screamed. With a little help from the Viking, he had just punched the wall hard enough to break many of the bones in his hand. He crumpled against the wall when Eric let him go, nursing his hand and whimpering. He certainly wouldn't be shooting anyone for a while. His injuries didn't look accidental, exactly... but he also didn't look like a vampire had squeezed his fist to a bloody pulp, which I 'heard' from Hunter was what my bonded had initially planned to do.

_This will look less suspicious_, I thought. _The police will think he punched the wall and broke it himself._

It all rushed in at me then. The police would be here any minute and Eric was bleeding, holding Remy's gun. I hoped this wasn't going to turn out like one of those shows on TV, where the crime scene investigators analyzed the blood spatter to figure out what actually happened.

"They won't," Hunter answered me. "Make a t-shirt."

I knew what he meant right away, and snapped my fingers. A duplicate of a red t-shirt I owned appeared in my hand and I rushed to Eric, pressing it against his chest to soak up the blood that was slowly seeping from the two bullet holes, so none of it ended up on Remy's pale brown carpet. As I carefully checked that all the blood was being soaked up, my eyes wandered over Eric's washboard abs, up his defined pecs, over the slight peaks where his nipples pushed the thin fabric of his black t-shirt out just a little...

_Focus, Sookie_, I told myself, snapping out of the haze of lust just as Eric noticed my wandering eyes and smirked at me. _Dammit!_ I thought. He was going to be even more insufferable now... but I could deal with that later, I decided. I put his hand on the t-shirt and took mine away.

He used the corner of the shirt to wipe two fingerprint-sized spots on the gun, and I realized he was smudging his own prints away, while leaving all the others intact. I didn't want to know where he had learned to do that, and I especially didn't want to know how he'd learned to disarm a gunman while leaving only two fingerprints on the weapon himself. I wasn't at all surprised he knew how, though; it was probably a basic life skill in the treacherous world of vampires.

He dropped the gun behind the big cupboard that housed the TV, and I realized it would be easy for the police to find it there, but would take long enough to get to that nobody would use it again before they got here. I was relieved beyond measure... but we still had to get the bleeding vampire out of here, and remove any traces that he or I had ever been in the room, before the police arrived.

_How long have we got?_ I silently asked Hunter.

_They'll be here in ten minutes_, he replied. _They didn't care about the fighting. They didn't come 'til there were gun shots._

The brief mind-to-mind contact told me that Hunter was OK now, apart from the pain from his broken arm; the dizzyingly-unstable state of the world had righted itself somehow, so the number of possible futures stretching in front of him was manageable again.

_You lived_, he told me happily, and in his mind, the stability of the whole world depended on me.

For the first time, I realized how big a commitment I was making, raising Hunter myself so he would be around people who understood his abilities and weren't scared of him. I loved him and would do my best for him, but all I could do was hope it would be enough.

_You'll be a great Mom_, my nephew reassured me, smiling broadly at the thought of coming to live with me.

Eric was watching us curiously, and I knew we had to talk aloud from now on or he'd get suspicious. I just hoped Hunter didn't say anything that tipped him off about his special abilities. I didn't want any vampire knowing what Hunter could do, not ever. I couldn't handle the thought of him getting caught up in vampire politics the way Quinn and I both had, and I would do anything to keep him clear of it. Heck, three minutes ago I was going to die to keep him safe, because I'd rather meet my death than bring Eric here to see Hunter... _Hang on, why is he here?_

"What are you doing here?" I asked Eric, suddenly realizing how odd it was that he was standing in Remy's living room. I was so used to him appearing to save my life that I almost took it for granted now. That wasn't good.

"I received a threat, telling me I must come or you would die."

I arranged my face in a look of surprise, even though I knew immediately that Hunter had sent it. Quinn bought a cell phone for him and programmed it with the numbers of everyone who would come to my aid in an emergency, which I gave to him the night before. Clearly my warnings about vampires hadn't got through to him at all. I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, especially when Eric whipped out his own phone and sent a message, moving so quickly I couldn't stop him. Of course, it was Hunter's phone that beeped seconds later.

Eric went over to Hunter, who was still tucked in the corner where I put him earlier. He had to step over Remy's neighbor Rob, where he lay unconscious on the floor, as he crossed the room. Remy had hit Rob over the head with a table leg before, and I was relieved to notice his chest rising and falling rhythmically; I hadn't had a chance to check if he was still alive while I dodged Remy's improvised baseball bat myself.

"It was you who sent the message," Eric stated, gracefully crouching to talk to the child.

"Please to meet you, King Eric," Hunter greeted him, nodding his head slowly. "I swear _feel-tee_ to you." He sounded the word out carefully.

I almost chastised Hunter for calling him that after I told him not to, but thought better of it and bit my tongue. Eric stared at him, and the hint of expression on his face seemed to be some mix of astonishment and horror. Then he burst out laughing.

"Child, I am not a King," he chuckled.

"You will be." Hunter told him. "Soon."

"I don't want to be." He wasn't laughing now; he sounded almost petulant.

"But you're meant to be. You're the oldest and the strongest. Everyone will follow you. All the Supes. They want you as King, not Felipe."

"But I don't want to be King," Eric repeated.

Hunter shrugged. "Aunt Sookie doesn't want to be the Miss Airy. Quinn doesn't want to work in your palace. But you have a destiny."

Apparently all that meant something to Eric because his eyes bugged out momentarily. Then he shook his head, as though dismissing some ridiculous thought. "Nobody has a destiny any more," he snorted.

"You do. So do Aunt Sookie and Uncle John."

"What is your name, strange child?" he asked curiously.

"Hunter."

"Why did you send me that message, Hunter?"

"My Dad was going to kill Aunt Sookie. You could get here in time to save her. Only you could."

Eric looked him over again, studying him like some curious specimen. "Your Dad told you he was going to kill her?"

"Exactly," I said quickly, 'hearing' that Hunter planned to answer honestly. "So he warned you."

"My bullshit detector reads that as false." He stared suspiciously at me. "This child is something special."

"Then your bullshit detector is still broken," I snapped back.

"No it's not!" Hunter protested. "I saw it! He didn't tell me, I'm a-"

"Hunter!" I snapped. _Shut up right this second. Do not say another word. Vampires aren't cool, they're dangerous. You can't trust him._

Hunter rolled his eyes. "He won't hurt me, Aunt Sookie. He'll protect me and be my Dad. I told you, remember? He'll love me, like he loves you."

I crouched down next to Hunter, shooing Eric away with my hand. He didn't move, so I had to squeeze in beside him instead. Hunter was completely surrounded now, with walls on two sides of him, Eric on one and me now filling the last of the free space. It was a claustrophobic arrangement, being so close to a Viking who seemed equal parts confused and pissed off... confused by Hunter and pissed off with me.

"Sweetie," I said tenderly. "I know you want a different Dad, but you can't just pick a random vampire and ask him to be your father. Quinn promised he'll help me care for you. He'll be a good father to you." _And he can turn into a tiger, just like you can_, I added.

"And I would not?" Eric muttered beside me. "You do not trust me with your kin. This child is Jason's, is he not? He smells like you both."

"Does he?" I asked, too brightly. "That's an odd coincidence. He's not Jason's, he just calls me Aunt, like an honorary title. He can't really call me his fairy godmother in front of people, can he?" I was trying hard to cover for Hunter, but he wasn't exactly helping.

"Hadley was my Mom," Hunter told Eric.

"Hunter!" I snapped. "Hush!"

"Aunt Sookie will be my Mom now," he added, ignoring me. "If you help us."

"What do you need?" Eric asked him, also ignoring me.

"Glamor my Dad, so he sends me to live with her."

"It was your father who broke your arm?"

Hunter just nodded.

Eric gingerly took his arm and examined it. His face twisted in rage as he did.

"This coward does not deserve to live," he fumed. "I can glamor him into pulling out his own eyeballs, if you'd like?"

Hunter giggled and shook his head. "You're funny." I was glad he didn't take Eric's offer seriously. "Just have him send me to Aunt Sookie's."

Eric nodded and got up, then stepped over Rob again to get to Remy. "Why did you hurt your son?" he asked, his voice heavily accented.

I slumped against the wall next to Hunter, knowing we were almost out of time.

"It's OK, Aunt Sookie," Hunter replied. "It's three minutes until the police get here. It's long enough, he's really good at this."

Eric glanced at us for a second, looking as though he'd just figured something out. My heart sank; I was pretty sure I knew what it was.

"Answer me," Eric said, the air around him shimmering with magic as he turned his attention back to Remy.

"He made his arm into a tiger paw," Remy started, his voice completely flat. "He shouldn't do that. If he does it in front of anyone else, the Fellowship will find out and they'll kill him. I had to teach him a lesson, so he won't do it again."

"You know your son is not safe with you," Eric murmured, "so you hurt him to make him hide what he is. Is that the right thing to do?"

"No, but there's no other way!" he insisted.

"There are others like Hunter. You could send him to them. They could protect him better than you can."

"He would be better off with his own kind," Remy murmured, as though he were repeating something he'd been told to say.

"Yes, he would."

"Then I'll send him to Sookie and that tiger guy."

"Good idea," Eric smiled, releasing Remy from his magic.

As Remy's rage abruptly subsided, he slumped against the wall and sobbed. He was hurting badly now - as well as the broken bones in his hands, he'd also done something to his other shoulder, when I tripped him and he crashed into a cupboard - but that was only part of why he was crying. Eric's glamor had taken away the excuses he'd used to justify his behavior, and without them, he knew exactly how wrong the things he'd done to his son and his friend were. He didn't know what to say, but he was sure nothing he could say would make things better. He was right.

Hunter turned away, not wanting to look at his father any more. I could 'hear' that he wanted to be gone already, to get on with his life without the specter of violence he'd lived with the last few months. I ruffled his hair gently to comfort him, because we both knew it would be a little longer before he could come home with me.

A moment later, Eric's head whipped around as though he'd just heard something. "The police are almost here. I must leave."

"I have to get out of here too," I added, standing up to go. "They can't know I was here, either."

"Wait!" Hunter yelled. "The bullets."

He held his hand out to Eric, who adjusted the red t-shirt and handed something to Hunter, which he promptly put in his mouth. I stared in confusion, wondering what on earth he was doing. After a few moments he spat out two bullets and gave them back to Eric.

"Polish them and throw them into the wall, like from a gun," my nephew instructed him, and to my shock, he did exactly as he was told.

I could hear the sirens myself now, which meant time was basically up. "We have to go."

Then I realized what had just happened.

"You bastard, you gave him your blood!" I screamed at Eric, trying to slap his face. Of course he saw it coming and caught my hand, but I was well-trained to deal with that. I shifted my weight just a little and kneed him in the balls as hard as I could, instead.

To my astonishment, he went down, hard - and didn't get back up.

He lay on the floor next to Rob, not moving at all, as the police sirens got closer and closer.


	15. Oh, no

As the police sirens grew louder, I started to panic. Eric was lying on the floor, not moving, right next to Remy's friend and neighbor Rob, who Remy had knocked unconscious with the leg of his coffee table in a drunken, concussed rage. Hunter was still huddled in the corner, cradling his arm, which was badly broken in two places - another product of his father's anger. As for Remy, he was still leaning against the wall farthest from Hunter, nursing a hand Eric slammed into the wall so it looked like he'd punched it, and a shoulder that hadn't sat quite right since I tripped him and sent him crashing into a cupboard. I was OK with that. He wouldn't be firing a gun again for some time, and since I was the person he most wanted to shoot, that was a big relief.

The room was utterly trashed, with beer bottles thrown all over the place, a huge hole in the window, torn curtains, furniture knocked over and pushed around... It looked exactly the product of drunken rage it was, except for the unconscious vampire in the middle of the floor. If the police found Eric there, I knew Remy would get away with everything; I had seen how the police loved to blame things on vampires, even when it clearly wasn't their fault.

"What do I do? What do I do?" I asked Hunter.

Eric groaned loudly and stirred. A moment later his eyes opened. He started moving then, slowly picking himself up off the floor with a pained expression on his face.

"Since when does one kick to the balls take you down?" I blurted out without thinking.

"I have been shot also, you forget," he muttered, his voice unsteady. Those bullets were meant for me, but I was still too furious over him giving Hunter his blood to feel any sympathy for him.

I checked the carpet quickly, and was pleased to see he hadn't bled on it at all. Not that a tiny drop of vamp blood on the carpet would necessarily get Remy out of trouble, I realized - V was a popular illegal drug these days, and police would blame a person who'd had it for any crime almost as quickly as they'd blame an actual vampire.

"He was hurt already," Hunter informed me. "Felipe punished him. He knocked down a building to save you from the fairies. He hasn't been eating enough to heal. Pam tries to make him eat more but he only wants you."

I sighed loudly. "Eric didn't save me from the fairies, Hunter, Bill and Niall did, and he wants everyone but me, most days. He's no King, and he's not going to be your Dad if I have any say in it," my voice sounded harsh, and that was fine by me. "I only get to be your Mom until he kills me, then you'll only have Quinn to care for you. Eric's not some superhero like you think, he's a lying asshole."

Eric didn't bother denying any of it, but Hunter naively jumped to his defense.

"He won't kill you," he insisted. "He only tricked you to save you from Felipe."

"How did you know that, child?" Eric asked him. "What are you?"

The sirens were close now. "Eric and I have to go, Hunter." I told him, before he could answer. "The police will be here in just a minute."

Hunter nodded. "He can't fly. You have to give him some blood first." He projected images of a Child Protective Services woman seeing fang marks on me and not letting me care for him so I knew to feed Eric from my thigh, not my neck or arm. "Go out back and hide behind the plants. Now." He projected another image to show me exactly where to hide, in the far left-hand corner of Remy's yard, behind the overgrown hydrangeas.

I nodded. Eric was barely able to stand, so I sighed loudly and went to help him get outside. He leaned on me heavily and we started shuffling out, moving far too slow to be clear of the house in time, considering the police were practically in the driveway now.

"She can heal you," Hunter called after us quietly. "Like Doctor Ludwig said. Tell her what happened and she'll heal you."

I just kept dragging Eric out; this wasn't the time to ask what Hunter meant. It was hard work, taking half the weight of a well-built six foot four vampire to keep him upright as he staggered outside. I felt a tug through the bond then, as though he was trying to take strength from me for himself. I was about to scream at him, but after I glanced at him, I sent him as much strength as I could instead. Hunter was right that he needed healing - a lot of healing, if the agonized look on his face was any indication.

The more strength I pushed through the bond, the faster he moved and the less I had to help him, which was good. We made it outside just as the police came through the front door, then headed straight for the spot Hunter showed me. It took us a few seconds to push through the overgrown plants in the far left corner of the yard, but once we were through, we had just enough clear space to sit down comfortably.

We were completely hidden in the corner, with the fence hiding us on two sides and a couple of huge hydrangea bushes shielding us from view from the yard. There was just enough room for the two of us to sit down in the empty triangular space behind the shrubs, which measured a little over a yard to a side. I realized this was Hunter's own hiding place and wondered how much time he spent out here, keeping away from his father's temper.

"Sshhh," Eric hissed at me.

I reached out mentally and felt the buzzing mind of a human just outside the back door. Eavesdropping on his thoughts, I 'heard' that he was checking whether anyone else was here; I assumed he was one of the police officers who had just arrived. After a quick look around, he concluded there wasn't and went back inside.

_You're safe now_, Hunter silently told me. _They won't go outside again for ages. More than an hour. Give Eric some blood so he can fly away._

"What did he say?" Eric asked.

"Who?" I asked, pretending I had no idea what he meant.

Eric just glared at me. "You know exactly who I mean," he snapped. "The child was just talking in your head. What is he?"

"None of your concern," I growled back. "You leave him alone."

"You would die to protect him." It wasn't a question; he had already figured out that much.

"I would kill to protect him," I added coldly, glaring in a way I hoped made it clear I would kill _him_ to protect Hunter if I had to.

"You do not trust me with your kin."

"I don't trust you at all. Why should I? What reasons have you given me to trust you?"

"You would be dead if I had not come."

"How noble of you," I spat. "Saving my life so you can kill me yourself. My hero."

He stared at me in astonishment. "Did you plan to die here so I could not turn you? That is why Quinn was crying, you told him your plan."

I shrugged. "If I'm gonna die, I'd rather die to save someone I love than become some oversexed vampire's newest plaything."

He actually almost looked hurt. "I told you I will not turn you. How could you even think I would-"

"Just shut up, Eric," I interrupted. "If you can't fly until you have a meal, I'll give you some blood, but that'll be much easier if you don't talk."

He surprised me by doing as I asked, and the sudden quiet was a blessed relief. I looked down at the workout clothes I was still wearing, and decided this was actually a pretty good 'vampire biting my femoral artery' outfit. The loose cotton shorts were stretchy enough to be pushed out of the way so he could feed high on my thigh, and long enough to cover the marks afterward. They were also a dark enough shade of blue that if a little blood got on them, it wouldn't show. Plus it was an utterly un-sexy outfit, which I hoped would deter him from doing anything other than feed. Right now, sex was certainly not on my agenda; I just wanted to give him enough blood that he could fly out of here before the police found him, then go home to Quinn.

"Let's just get this over with," I sighed, hitching up my shorts. "Take enough blood that you can fly again, and no more. I'm sure you have a _meal_ waiting for you at Fangtasia, anyway."

He didn't say anything, just stroked the artery I had uncovered for him and stared at my face. I was about to tell him to hurry up when he was suddenly upon me, his free hand holding the back of my head as he kissed me. He was by far the best kisser I'd ever known, and when his lips went to work on mine, I couldn't help moaning a little... but it also felt wrong. I knew I shouldn't be kissing him, that I wasn't his any more, that I'd moved on and he had, too.

I tried to pull back but his grip was firm enough that I couldn't move away from him; could only escape by teleporting away entirely, which wasn't a good idea when he was stranded here until he took some blood. I pushed uselessly against his chest, refusing to return his kiss. After a minute or so, he finally noticed my lack of response and stopped.

"What the hell are you doing?" I demanded, when he finally released me.

"This will hurt a lot, if you are not aroused."

"I know, and I don't care. I just want it over with. I'm not gonna have sex with you, so don't even think about kissing me again."

He shrugged and leaned over so his mouth was on my thigh, but he still didn't bite me. Instead, he was kissing and stroking the artery I offered him, teasing me - and much to my annoyance, my body was responding.

"Eric," I warned, but my voice came out as a plea instead.

"Yield to me, lover," he purred, his breath a cool caress against my thigh.

"No," I told him unsteadily. "I don't want to have sex with you."

"Is that so?" He inhaled deeply beside my crotch and looked up at me with a blissful expression on his face. Then his finger slid beneath the elastic of my underwear, stroking my wet folds expertly. He knew exactly how to drive me mad, and another moan escaped my lips before I could stop it.

"This isn't right," I protested, my voice low and hoarse as his hands pleasured my most sensitive parts.

"This doesn't feel right?" As he asked, he pushed my underwear aside and slid two fingers inside me as his thumb circled my nub.

"No," I gasped, but my hips rose up to meet him.

He sat up to lick my ear and kiss the spot just behind it, making my body betray me with shudders of delight as his hand kept working within me. I couldn't deny that he was good at this - breathtakingly good at it - but it also felt completely wrong, having his ice-cold hands all over me again. I was with Quinn now. I had been_ with_ Quinn, in the intimate sense, three times today; had the most intense sex of my life with him that afternoon... and still, the second Eric touched me, my body said yes. _What the hell is wrong with me?_ I thought. I felt deeply, awfully ashamed that I would respond to him like this. I had seen Eric do exactly this in the heads of so many other women and I hated him for it, and yet here I was, moaning for him just like they did.

"I see the way you look at me, lover," he whispered in my ear. "That tiger can fuck you all day and you still want me. You are mine."

"No," I whimpered, trying to protest as my hips moved with him, encouraging his hand.

"I dreamed of this every moment we were apart," he kept on whispering, his voice low and hoarse in my ear. "Your smell... your taste... those wonderful sounds you are making... and these," his spare hand pushed my t-shirt and bra up above my breasts so he could stroke and tease them. "Especially these. You are best, my lover. Only you are best. Only you are right."

As he pinched my nipples a little harder than he ought, his own excitement starting to get the better of him, the last of the fight left my body. He was being rough now, hurting my nipples and my clit, but that was fine. I was just another fang-banging whore, cheating on a man who loved me deeply with this promiscuous vampire; I deserved to be hurt. When he heard my overheated moan, he pulled back to grin triumphantly at me. I looked away, so ashamed of myself I couldn't bear to watch him, but he turned my face back to him.

"Watch me, lover," he purred, then quickly moved down to suck first one of my nipples, then the other, looking up at me the whole time.

I bit my lip to stop myself begging for more. He had me right on edge, his hand moving slowly now to keep me going a little longer.

"Do it," I finally begged, defeated. "Bite me. Please, bite me."

"As you wish," he grinned, moving down my body to lick me. He was humming with pleasure as his cold tongue darted around my wet folds, lapping up the flood of juices he found there. "Even better than I remembered," he murmured.

He sucked my clit one last time, his fangs running over it quickly, and then I was there, the pleasure of it all overwhelming me. He timed it perfectly, his fangs sliding into my thigh just as my climax began, his hand holding me tightly so my bucking hips didn't disturb him as he fed deeply, sucking down all the blood he could get. His other hand kept working me, drawing out my pleasure for as long as he could... and with all his experience, that was a long time indeed. Even when I slumped over, finally done, he kept on feeding, his face glazed with bloodlust.

"Ow," I complained as he bit down harder, and he finally stopped.

"I am sorry," he said stiffly. "I meant to stop sooner, but I was hungry. The bullets..."

He sat up as he spoke and lifted his t-shirt to show me the bullet holes at the bottom of his ribcage, closing quickly now. His other hand was draped casually across his waist, and even though I barely glanced at him, I could see he was hiding some other wound from me.

"Sword fighting," he said stiffly, then changed the subject, hiding his chest carefully. "I will be able to fly again soon. Thank you."

I just nodded, wanting to get away as quickly as I could. He went to heal the wounds on my thigh, but I pulled the leg of my shorts back down to cover up the marks instead, moving my underwear back where it belonged as I did. Then I pulled my t-shirt down again, tugging my bra back into place as well. I couldn't stop thinking what a terrible person I was for doing this to Quinn, who was so wonderful to me, and it was taking all my strength to keep my tears at bay. I wouldn't let Eric see me cry; I had to get home first.

"Lover, you are upset," he said softly. "What troubles you so?"

"I thought I was better than this," I blurted out, feeling an overwhelming urge to tell him everything, "but I'm just another fang-banging whore, aren't I? That's all I'll ever be, it's all I deserve... Quinn loves me so much, he's so good to me, and I still did this to him, I can't believe-"

Then I noticed the urge to share wasn't my own; it was coming at me through the bond with the force of a ten-tonne truck.

"You asshole," I muttered, shrinking away from him. "I hate you."

"Sookie," he started, "I -"

I teleported away before I heard another word leave his lying mouth.


	16. Terrible

After behaving the way I did with Eric, I wanted to teleport straight into my shower; all I could think about was scrubbing his scent from my skin as quickly as possible. I realized at the last instant that I couldn't do that; I had left Quinn stuck to a chair in my living room, expecting never to see me again. It wasn't fair to leave him there any longer, especially not just so I could try to wash away my much-deserved shame with a hot shower. I changed my destination from my bathroom to my living room just before I pulled myself back into the world.

When I felt the relief and joy that radiated from him as he saw me reappear, I couldn't control the tears I had been holding back so carefully. He loved me so much, he was so good to me, a couple of hours ago I could've sworn I wanted to be with him for the rest of my life... and still, I did this to him. I didn't deserve a man like this, a man who was all mine and treated me like a queen. I deserved exactly what Eric dished out: the lies, the threats, the possessiveness, the disrespect, the double-standards, the fang-bangers...

"You're alive," Quinn beamed as I spun around to face him. When he saw I was crying, the smile left his face instantly. "What's wrong?" he asked, suddenly worried. "Is Hunter OK? Were you able to save him?"

I nodded, and I 'heard' him register that I smelled of sex. "I did something terrible," I told him, tears covering my face. "I'm so sorry, I don't deserve you at all. You're so good to me and... I'm so sorry." I rushed out of the room then, unable to face him any longer.

Halfway down the hallway to my bedroom, I remembered what I meant to do. I stopped and crept back to the living room, barely peaking around the door. My telekinetic abilities worked far better when I could see what I was moving, so I had to see him to release him, to be sure I didn't mess up. I glanced into the room just long enough to click my fingers and let him go, then ducked into my bathroom and locked the door behind me. I knew I had to talk to him soon - I owed him a proper explanation, at the very least - but I couldn't bear to do it yet.

I didn't bother taking off my clothes or waiting for the water to warm up, just hopped straight under the shower, sobbing as the whole weight of the last couple of hours caught up with me. I could feel Quinn's mind buzzing with confusion as he paced up and down the hallway, wondering what happened to me and what he could do to help. He was extremely worried because to him, when a woman comes home smelling of sex and crying her eyes out, then heads straight for the shower, that has a very specific meaning.

I wasn't an innocent victim in all this, though; all my objections melted away once Eric started fingering me. Thinking so graphically of what I just did made me nauseous, I was so ashamed of myself. I threw up what little I had in my stomach, which thankfully didn't amount to much, then kept dry retching over the drain.

A few seconds later, Quinn smelled something that alarmed him, and immediately went to intervene. He was standing in front of me before I knew what was happening, pocketing the quarter he used to open the door lock from outside. He quickly turned off one tap and turned on the other. The shock of cold water on my back brought me back to life.

"Hey!" I yelled, trying to move out from under the icy water as I quickly stood up again.

"Sorry," he apologized as he caught me, turned me around and moved me back under the water before I could protest any more. "Your back's scalded, we have to cool your skin down before the burn takes."

"I don't care," I protested, still struggling.

He climbed into the tub in front of me so quickly I didn't see him move; I literally blinked and his chest filled my field of view, his hands on my shoulders gently pulling me to him. As soon as I sagged against him, I knew this was exactly what I needed; being back in his arms was like the sun rising at the end of a long night. He shuffled forward just far enough that the cold water beat down on my whole back, as I buried my head against him and sobbed. He leaned over me then, and being surrounded by him so completely made me feel safe.

It didn't last long; when he started lifting my t-shirt, I panicked and tried to pull away.

"Sshh," he murmured. "I need to see how bad it is. Please, just hold still for a second, I won't hurt you."

It was only then that I realized how much my back hurt; it felt as though it were really badly sunburned, and then some. A moment later, I remembered I had only turned the hot tap on before, and immediately felt really stupid. I hadn't even noticed when the water warmed up and started burning me, and I briefly wondered if I would still be scalding myself if he hadn't burst in and turned the hot water off. I held still and let him lift up the t-shirt, shivering as the icy water hit my back. He moved my shorts down a little lower as well, and held me there for a long time. The warmth of his body against my front made the chill of the water against my back more bearable, and I snuggled into him.

He quieted all the worry in his mind, focusing on how right it felt to hold me so I wouldn't be disturbed by his thoughts. I was so grateful for that, I sobbed even harder. He was perfect for me and I was going to lose him, purely through my own faithlessness.

How many people could quiet their mind like this, concentrating on one thing so well that nothing else intruded? I knew it was a hard-won skill, that he taught himself to assume an almost meditative state when he fought in the pits so he acted purely on instinct, never second-guessing himself or letting his conscience stop him doing what he had to to survive. I also knew it was no accident he could now do the same thing around me; he started practicing after I told him I hated listening to the random chatter in people's heads, so he wouldn't annoy me with his. He had already been a very focused person, and his shifter mind wasn't as wordy as a human's... but how many people would learn to stop all their idle thoughts for an hour at a time, just so they could make love to a telepath?

My fingers only barely met when I wrapped my arms around his chest, but I held on as tightly as I could, as though that would somehow make him forgive me and stay, despite what I did.

The fifth time he checked, he was satisfied with how my back looked and touched it gently, pleased to feel how cool it was.

"How does your back feel?" he asked me.

"Cold."

"That's good. I think I got in here in time and cooled it off fast enough. It's still red, but it doesn't smell burnt now. If it starts to feel hot again later, you'll have to either hop under the shower a while longer, or it should be OK to put a wet towel on it instead, if that's easier."

I nodded against his chest, not letting go of him for a second, even as he turned off the water and tried to get me to move.

I could feel that having a purpose had made him feel better; that finding some concrete way to help me instead of just pacing and worrying was comforting to him. But that was coming to an end now, and a creeping sense of dread was rising in him instead.

"We need to talk about what happened," he started, trying not to upset me.

I shook my head, trying to burrow even deeper into his chest. I really didn't want to talk; talking was the absolute last thing on my mind. Being close to his body for so long had re-awakened my libido, especially since holding me had had the usual effect on him and he had been half-hard against me for most of that time. I felt sure that if he fucked me roughly enough, thoroughly enough, it would erase what I just did. As soon as I let myself think it, I started grinding against him unconsciously, rubbing my stomach back and forth over his cock to let him feel the softness of my flesh.

"Sookie?" he asked, confused. His body reacted to my smell and the feel of me in his arms, but that was purely physical. His mind wasn't on sex; far from it. He didn't find weeping women hot - I heard all that in the few seconds of muddled thoughts my grinding provoked in him.

"If you think you can ever forgive me... Reclaim me?" I whispered, still burrowing against him. "Please, make me yours again... I don't mind if you want to hurt me for what I did..." I was sobbing again by the time I finished, sure he'd reject me.

He turned my face up to his and kissed me tenderly, telling me he would forgive me anything. Then he studied my face, not liking what he saw.

"He hurt you," he growled, sounding angry for the first time.

"I deserved it."

He paused for a moment, wondering what to say, then went with what he thought was necessary. "Because as soon as he wanted you back, you spread your legs just like all his other fang-bangers." He said it to provoke me, I could feel that, but it didn't stop my temper from flaring.

"NO!" I slapped him as hard as I could, pulling away. "I told him no! I told him I wouldn't have sex with him. I told him I wouldn't even kiss him. He started all that 'yield to me' crap and I kept telling him no! I kept saying it until... until..." I trailed off then, crying.

"Until your body responded to what he was doing," he murmured, pulling me close to him again. "I'm sorry I said that," he added. "You know I didn't mean it, right?"

I had already 'heard' his reasons for saying it in his thoughts. He could tell I felt so bad right now that if he just asked what happened, I would heap blame and self-hatred on myself for hours as I slowly gave up the details. He also knew that when I was angry, I tended to blurt things out very frankly. He needed to know why I was upset, but he couldn't stand to hear me sound so broken and defeated, so he decided to provoke me into blurting out what happened, then grovel for my forgiveness over what he said to get me to tell him.

"You're still a jerk," I pulled away to glare at him, still mad at him even if he didn't mean it.

He just grinned at me.

"What?" I snapped.

"That's my girl," he smiled softly. "I've always loved that about you, the way you stand up for yourself. Nobody has the right to speak to you like that, and you know it. No-one has the right to take anything you don't want to give, either." There was a note of anger in the last part.

"It wasn't like that," I corrected, feeling ashamed again. "It's not like he raped me or anything, I wanted..." I couldn't say any more.

He took my face in his hands and made me look at him again. "What he did fits the definition of rape exactly. You said no and he did it anyway."

"But... he wasn't trying to hurt me," I explained weakly. "He just wanted to make me, uh..." I couldn't finish my sentence.

"It doesn't matter that he made it physically enjoyable," Quinn retorted, knowing exactly what I meant. "It's just as bad as being held down or beaten up... worse, in some ways."

I gave him a really skeptical look, not believing that for a second.

"He used your body's natural reactions against you," he explained. "That's why you feel so ashamed now, why you feel like this is your fault."

"No, I feel ashamed because I cheated on you. You're so good to me, and still, I cheated on you." I was about to start crying again.

"No, you didn't," he insisted. "I don't blame you for anything that's done to you without your consent, and you shouldn't either. I've been cheated on before, and that's not what you did. You weren't out looking for it, you said no to him, and you haven't tried to hide anything from me. That's the worst part about being cheated on, really, being lied to over and over... well, that and knowing someone you care about finds it exciting to do things they know will really hurt you... you haven't done any of that to me."

I caught a brief flash of memory from him; a woman he'd once dated. A tall, lithe redhead who looked like a Victoria's Secret model. Oh, who had _been_ a Victoria's Secret model. Meeting him for dinner, reeking of another man; fawning over him and pretending to adore him, when he knew she'd just had sex with someone else. Glowing with pleasure as she lied to him, delighting in the games she was playing. Far more turned on by the idea of having him when she'd just been with someone else, than she ever was on days she only saw him. OK, that really wasn't me. But still...

"But... I liked it," I confessed, trying to make him understand that I did do something wrong; that he shouldn't forgive me so easily.

He rolled his eyes at me. "You liked it so much you cried and threw up and scalded your back without noticing. I'm just glad you don't ever 'like' being with me that much." He gave me a significant look, trying to silently remind me that this wasn't how sex was supposed to make me feel. Then he realized what I meant. "He told you your body was saying yes, didn't he? He said that made it OK for him to keep going, even though you said no."

I stared at him. "How did you know that?"

"I've spent too much time around vampires," he muttered. "They all think it's fine to do that, that it doesn't count as rape if their victim comes."

That set me off again, sobbing against his chest. "I'm such a slut!" I bawled. "Even after being with you today, I still... I still... and then I get back here and throw myself at you like... like some common whore... and..."

"Ssshhh," he hushed me, sitting on the edge of the tub and pulling me into his lap. "You're imprinting, you'd enjoy almost anything right now. That's what makes this so bad... your body felt pleasure while he forced you. The imprint that leaves..." He stopped talking for a long moment, his mind a tangle of trauma and anger, feeling like what happened would permanently damage me.

"It can't have damaged me that much, if I'm still throwing myself at you," I pointed out. "It's not like I'm traumatized at all."

He stared at me in shock. "Still having a libido doesn't mean you weren't traumatized by this... God, you said you didn't mind if I hurt you before..." he choked up then, distraught that I could think he might want that, even for a moment.

We were both silent for a long time, clinging to each other. His body heat felt wonderful against me; I knew his warmth alone was stopping me from shivering in my wet clothes, so I snuggled in as close to him as I could.

He was trying to think of a way to explain that different people react differently to being forced; that some do still feel horny afterward; that my use of the word 'reclaim' was significant, because some people wanted to reclaim their own sexuality as quickly as possible; that being determined to have a normal sex life after something like this was just as natural a reaction as not wanting to be touched ever again; that the stereotype that people who'd been forced didn't want sex again for a long time was harmful, because it imposed one set of reactions on everyone, even though different people responded to any traumatic event differently. Just like some people grieved by weeping for days and others shut down so much they showed no emotion at all, there was a whole range of normal reactions to this. He knew a frightening amount about how rape effected people, all because of what happened to his Mom and the never-ending psychiatric treatment she'd had since.

It was slowly dawning on me that maybe some of that did apply; that maybe something bad had just happened to me. I didn't want to admit it, but I did feel a bit violated. When I said no I meant it, despite my body's responses, and it really hurt that Eric would ignore my wishes like that.

"What did you mean when you said 'he started with all that yielding crap'?" Quinn asked me, completely out of the blue.

"It's just something he says sometimes," I mumbled, figuring he deserved some sort of explanation, but not really wanting to talk about it.

"What?"

"Oh, 'yield to me', it's like his favorite expression or something," I rolled my eyes, thinking how annoying it was when Eric did that.

Quinn stared at me in horror. "You mean that literally, don't you?" he finally sputtered. "He actually tells you to yield to him."

I nodded a little while later, when I realized he was going to wait until I answered.

"So this isn't new. He's done this to you before," he fumed.

"It's never gone this far before," I said defensively. "And it hasn't happened for a long time, anyway."

"So he usually backs off eventually." He sounded so relieved, I wished that were true.

I was silent for a long moment. "No, we kinda got interrupted every other time," I admitted.

As soon as I said it, Quinn's mind snarled up in a tangle of fury. He was biting his tongue, I could 'hear' that, because he wanted to tell me to stay away from any man who ever said or did anything like that to me. He wanted to basically order me to never be alone with Eric ever again, to make sure this couldn't happen any more. He knew from dealing with his sister that saying that would lead to an argument though; he knew I didn't respond any better than she did when he got over-protective, so he made himself stay quiet until he'd calmed down some.

"I guess you heard all of that?" he asked, when he finally felt like he could talk without ranting.

I just nodded.

"I don't want to tell you what to do, but it's really dangerous to be around anyone who thinks like that," he said carefully.

"Like what?"

"Like they have some right of access to your body. Like 'no' is the start of negotiations. Like what you want isn't important," he ranted. "Like what you wear or look like or do makes it OK to keep going even though you've told them to stop. Like women are communal property, there to be fucked by any male who feels like it, whether they're interested or not. Like you have some responsibility to deal with every boner any stupid horny male ever gets over you. Like you're not really a person with rights and feelings, just a collection of appealing orifices."

_O-kay_, I thought to myself. _Not really about me, huh?_

But I 'heard' that to him it was all on some sort of continuum, that there was a direct relationship between an idiot who won't leave a woman in a low-cut top alone because her outfit is 'asking for it', and a group of hunters who rape a scared, injured woman because she was naked in front of them. He was convinced that the more people believed women bring rape upon themselves by inflaming male desires, the easier it was for the few sick bastards who actually did rape people to get away with it. He was convinced that not many men are really capable of forcing someone, because no-one halfway healthy stays turned on when their partner's clearly hating every second of it.

I wanted to protest and tell him this had nothing to do with all that, but my arguments all sounded unconvincing, even to me. I knew Eric didn't think I was _communal_ property, but he did keep saying I was his, and he did behave as though he had a right to have sex with me. Saying 'no was the start of negotiations' with him would be an understatement. He thought nothing of ignoring my wishes whenever he felt like it.

"God, I'm stupid," he said unexpectedly, shocking me out of my thoughts. "You'd think after so many years of hearing about this stuff, I'd have some sense of who's capable of something like that. But I fell into the most obvious, stupid trap... I figured, with so many options, he'd have no need to... and it's not even about that, it's all power and enjoying other people's pain and stuff... I should know that by now. I'm such an idiot."

"No, you're not," I protested gently. "I like that you want to protect me, but you can't blame yourself every time I get hurt."

"Not even when it's my fault?"

I kissed him gently. "This isn't your fault," I reassured him.

He just sighed loudly. "Actually, it kind of is," he admitted. "I sent him after you. This wouldn't have happened if I'd respected your wishes, but I couldn't stand the thought of you dying so I begged him to go find you. I'm so sorry, babe. If I wasn't so weak..." he trailed off, distraught.

"I'd be dead," I finished for him, because I was still grateful to be alive, despite what happened.

I couldn't think of anything else to say so I kissed him instead, trying to show him I didn't blame him for Eric's actions, any more than he blamed me. We both moved tentatively, scared the last couple of hours' events had changed something between us. It was a few minutes before the kiss became comfortable and familiar again; we were both so afraid of moving too fast that we had contained every last drop of passion we felt for each other, trying to operate on affection alone.

"I love you," I reassured him, "and if I get a choice, I choose you. I want to be with you, John, nobody else."

It was exactly what he needed to hear. He smiled then, kissing me a little harder and more insistently. I could feel every fiber of my being responding to him, moulding to him just as I had before. Things were finally starting to feel right between us again, and I was really glad.

"I love you too," he replied a few minutes later. "I'm all yours, babe. What happened... it doesn't change how I feel about you."

It was my turn to smile, because this time, I actually believed him. We were going to be OK, and that made me so happy I felt like my heart would burst right out of my chest. Our kisses turned more intense, giving all the love we felt for each other physical form. It wasn't time to make love again yet, we both knew that, but when we did, we could both feel that it would be very special indeed. We broke off the kiss many minutes later, just as it was starting to feel more carnal, and when I looked in his eyes, all I saw was love.

I sighed and rested my head on his shoulder, planting gentle little kisses on the scar on his neck as I traced it with my fingertip. He trembled beneath me, knowing what the scar meant even better than I did. His arms wrapped around me, holding me tight against him, and I wriggled against his hardness for a few seconds, knowing I could give him that small pleasure and he would take nothing more from me; wouldn't even consider it teasing, since he enjoyed me touching him so much that he put no conditions on what I could do to him.

My arms found their way around his chest again and I curled into a ball in his lap, my ear against his chest so I could listen to his heartbeat and take comfort in its slow, steady rhythm. We were silent for a long time, just soaking up the warmth of being back in each other's arms, knowing that we still had each other, and feeling that would ultimately make everything OK.

I could've stayed like that all night, but unfortunately it wasn't to be.

"The child is in hospital," Eric's voice came from the doorway behind me.

_Here comes trouble_, I thought to myself, as Quinn tensed for a fight underneath me.


	17. Regret

"The child is in hospital," Eric's cold voice came from behind me. "He is safe."

I pulled away from Quinn to stare at the doorway. I was sitting on his lap on the edge of the bathtub, where we had been cuddling and kissing. Sure enough, Eric filled the door frame, staring at us both angrily.

"I don't know why you bother with him, lover," he smirked. "He clearly doesn't satisfy you, when you still want me so much."

The upsetting thing was, it was true. When I looked at Eric, my loins ached. When I heard his voice, or felt his icy touch, or smelled his dry, vampiric aroma, I wanted him. It didn't matter that he had done things to me after I said no barely an hour ago, things I felt so bad about that I scalded my back without noticing. It didn't matter that he was going to kill me. It didn't matter how much I hated him, he still turned me on - which just made me hate him even more.

The worst part was, he could always smell my response to him. Quinn could, too. But my boyfriend still wasn't angry with me; instead, he started laughing at Eric.

"What is funny?" the Viking demanded, as Quinn stood up and set me on my feet gently in the crowded bathroom. A few moments ago, I felt him tensing for a fight, but now he was utterly relaxed. His ease reassured me; somehow, he knew how to handle this, even if I didn't.

"C'mon, we all know that's the blood bond at work," he chuckled. "She still doesn't want you, even with the bond to help you. That's pretty pathetic."

Eric just snorted. "She thinks of me while she is fucking you. We both know it."

I got the feeling he expected a big response to that, but Quinn didn't react at all.

"You used the bond to mess with her that night, Eric," he replied calmly. "We both know that, too."

"So that is why you forgive her," Eric sniffed. "She blames her feelings on me, once more."

"Right," I muttered, "when I'm having sex, I always think about breaking all my boyfriend's bones and then draining my own blood in front of him. You had nothing at all to do with that. And then I think about what my own face looks like when... well, you know..."

Quinn stared at me in horror. "That's the images he sent you through the bond that night?"

I just nodded.

Eric was gaping at me. "You saw that?" He seemed slightly stunned.

I ignored him, not wanting to talk about it any more.

"Stop using the bond to help you," Quinn challenged Eric, "and see how much she wants you then."

I could 'hear' that he really thought anyone with a libido and an interest in men would want Eric, bond or not, but he would never say so to him.

"She wanted me plenty when we were alone tonight," Eric growled back. "I was not using the bond then."

"That's why she kept saying no?" Quinn snarled. "Because she _wanted_ you so much."

"Her religion does not allow her to admit her desires," Eric taunted. "She only protests out of stupid Christian guilt. She wants me, you can smell it too."

Quinn was itching to tell Eric _he_ never heard any guilty Christian protestations from me; that I literally begged him to fuck me. He wanted to boast how great it felt to know he was giving me exactly what I wanted, because I'd just asked him for it in the most graphic possible language. He wanted to rub it in that when he made love to me, my consent wasn't an eventual cessation of protest, it was a series of panted demands; that I screamed 'yes' instead of saying 'no'. But he also knew I considered sex private, I would feel betrayed if he ever gossiped about our love life, and he'd get a lot less loving if he did. He was right.

I couldn't stand to let the conversation go on. "Eric, why are you here?" I demanded. "What do you want?"

"I want that filthy animal to take his paws off my woman," he sneered, "but I can smell that you want him, too. Do you think you can have us both, lover? That I will permit this? I came to tell you the child is safe at the hospital, and I find you all over him again. I have taken you back from him, you are my woman, not his."

"I'm not your woman," I protested wearily. "I'm a one-man woman, and that man is Quinn. You should go, I don't want to talk to you."

"This is how you speak to someone who just saved your life?" He was suddenly right in front of me, towering over me.

"You already extracted your payment for that." I shuddered in disgust, backing away from him. "I don't owe you anything more."

The way he stared at me made it clear I'd said something to upset him, but luckily the phone rang before he could say anything. I ducked around him and charged through my room to the kitchen to snatch it up, glad to get out of there before the two large, supernaturally strong predators in my bathroom came to blows.

"Hello," I blurted into the receiver, forgetting my manners.

"Hi, I'm looking for Sookie Stackhouse," said a young, female voice.

"Speaking."

"Miss Stackhouse, Dr. Patel asked me to call you. We have -"

"Ohmigosh, it's Hunter, isn't it? Is he OK? Did his Dad hurt him again?" I feigned surprise pretty well, and I was fairly sure she bought it.

I heard the girl sigh in relief. "Yes, it's Hunter. He was brought in with a broken arm and he won't stop asking for his Aunt Sookie. I know you're not his parent or guardian, but Dr. Patel thinks you should be here. He asked me to call you."

"I'm the only family he's got left, on his Mom's side," I explained. "She died a while ago and his Dad's family... they have some problems."

"Well, if you could come see him, it would be a big help. He's real upset, he keeps asking for you. He won't sleep here."

"I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Thank you," she told me, her voice full of gratitude.

"I'm in Bon Temps, so it'll take me almost an hour to get there, but tell him I'm coming."

"OK. See you then."

It was only when I hung up that I realized I hadn't caught her name.

When I turned around, Eric was right there, blocking my path. "Your back has been scalded," he growled.

"It's fine," I snapped, pulling my t-shirt down and my shorts up to hide it.

"This is how he punished you for being with me?"

"What? No! It was an accident, I didn't realize how hot the water was," I admitted sheepishly. "Quinn would never hurt me."

"He better not," Eric snarled, "or he will answer to me."

He lunged toward me, trying to turn me around and pull my t-shirt up again so he could inspect my back more closely, but I shrank away from him before he could. I still wasn't sure how I felt about what happened before, but I did know that I didn't want him touching me any more right now.

"Lover?" he pleaded, all the certainty suddenly gone from his voice.

"You should go, Eric." I tried to sound strong, but my trembling voice gave me away.

"You fear me." He sounded almost wounded by what the bond told him. I didn't care.

"What do you expect?" Quinn asked, sliding in next to me. "She said no and you kept touching her. You need to leave her alone now."

"I did as she asked," Eric insisted. "I didn't kiss her and I didn't have sex with her."

"That's not what it smells like. Your saliva was all over her, and you stink of her fluids." Quinn was radiating anger, so I took his hand to calm him a little.

"She offered me blood," Eric protested, "from her thigh, no less. All I did was stop it hurting when I bit her."

To his credit, Quinn didn't doubt me for a second, immediately figuring there must be a good reason for what I did. It was me who thought how bad that sounded, and immediately felt guilty again.

_Hunter told me to_, I explained silently. _Eric couldn't fly until he fed because he'd been shot. I couldn't leave him there for the police to find, or Remy would get away with it. It had to be from my thigh, or the child protection lady would see fang marks on me tomorrow and not let Hunter live with me. I'm really sorry, I know I did the wrong thing, but it seemed like the only way._

_Did he know that?_ Quinn asked me silently. _Did Hunter say any of that out loud?_

I thought about it for a second, realizing how important my answer was. _He knew I had to feed him, but not that it had to be from my thigh._

I 'heard' Quinn think that Eric probably misunderstood, knowing vampires would assume that anyone who offered them a juicy femoral artery wanted sex since altruism was almost unknown in their world, but he also knew that saying so to Eric would be a mistake.

"You know she had to give you blood to heal you, so you could fly away before the cops found you," he told Eric firmly, "and it's not like she could turn up at the hospital to see Hunter with fang marks on her arms or neck."

Eric cocked his head to the side, as though he were trying to figure something out. "Did you mean it this time?" he asked, staring at me. "Your refusals?"

"I meant it every time," I whispered, my stomach churning as I thought of all the times Eric tried to persuade me to have sex with him, all the times he urged me to 'yield to' him, when I knew it was a really bad idea.

"But you want me." He was almost pouting then.

I sighed loudly. "Does that even matter? You don't care why I have sex with you, as long as I do, right?"

"I said that only once," he retorted. "Sharing a bed with you while you were almost naked and reeked of blood... no man would care your reasons."

"I'd just been staked," I reminded him, "and I never asked you to hop into bed with me."

"But you wished me to," he replied. "You wanted me. I could smell your desire whenever I was near you."

I sighed loudly; I couldn't exactly deny that. "Sure," I admitted, "you look good and you kiss really well. But if we'd had sex then, I would've regretted it."

"Oh no, lover," he purred, "you would never regret being with me. If we had not been interrupted..." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"I'm sure it would've been... fun," I conceded, "but it would've only felt good 'til it was over. Then, I would've regretted it."

"I do not understand." He looked as confused as he sounded.

"I would've hated myself for doing it," I explained. "I would've wanted to scrub your scent off me with a wire brush. Like I feel now." My voice trembled, and if Quinn hadn't wrapped his arms around me so tenderly, I probably would've cried.

Eric gave me the same look he had when I kneed him in the balls before. "But I pleased you," he protested. "I made you feel good."

I couldn't help a few tears escaping then. "All I feel is guilty," I wept. "Guilty and ashamed. I shouldn't have let you... I should've done something to stop it... I should've left, or stuck you to the fence, or... something. I have a boyfriend who loves me, and I cheated on him. I don't feel good about that, I feel terrible. I feel like... I'm not a good person... to be with two men in one day... it's just so wrong. You should dump me for this," I stared up at Quinn.

He hugged me tighter and shook his head. "What he did meets the definition of sexual assault perfectly. It's not cheating when you said no."

"Perhaps I did not mean it," Eric muttered, drawing my attention back to him. "Perhaps I do care why you have sex with me."

"And perhaps you didn't mean it when you said you don't care about my feelings, either," I retorted, dabbing my face with tissues.

"At the moment I said that, I meant it," he admitted. "I had other things to worry about."

I got the feeling he hoped his honesty would earn him some brownie points, but I was more concerned with my nephew's needs.

"Can we take your truck?" I turned to ask Quinn. "We'll get there a lot faster than we would in my car."

"Sure," he answered a few moments later, when he realized I was talking about going to the hospital to see Hunter. "I don't actually fit in your car."

"Yeah, I remember," I smiled.

He tried to fit in my car once. He looked like a brown, muscular sardine... if sardines had their knees tucked just under their chin. It was a funny sight.

"Lover, we need to talk about this," Eric interrupted, blocking my path again.

"Don't call me that," I hissed. "I'm not your _lover_ any more. I want you to leave now."

"Tell me how to fix this? Tell me what you want from me?" There was an unfamiliar note of desperation in his voice.

"She already told you that," Quinn interrupted. "She's asked you to leave three times now. Just because what she wants isn't what you want, doesn't mean you get to ignore her. Or do you get a kick out of doing things to her against her will?"

"You cannot understand," Eric muttered. "She is my bonded, I know what she wants better than she does."

I could feel Quinn rolling his eyes behind me, about to make some snappy retort, but I knew that would just lead to more bickering and angst.

"I don't have time for this," I snapped. "Go away, Eric."

"I am sorry I hurt you," he told me in the heavily accented voice he used when he was upset, and for a moment, I almost believed him.

Then he was gone.


	18. Hospital

I explained everything that happened that night on the way to the hospital, filling Quinn in on Remy's attempts to kill me, the bullets Eric took to save me, and the various things Hunter had said. We didn't discuss the very last part of my time in Red Ditch, though; he couldn't bear to hear about it again, and I didn't have the strength to discuss it any more.

"I didn't anticipate this scenario," he admitted at the end, "you having to incapacitate someone, without it looking like you were ever there. I guess I'd better teach you how to make it look like they had accident when you take someone down," he concluded.

I just nodded, and stayed silent as he used the last few minutes of the drive to start planning my next few lessons in his head.

When we got to the hospital, I found out where Hunter was and we headed straight there. We found Dr. Patel tending to him.

The doctor was extremely relieved to see us. I 'heard' he was glad he might finally be able to leave; his shift had ended hours before, and his wife hated when he came home late. He felt he had to stay though, because Hunter cried and screamed when anyone else tried to touch him. He had tried to get Hunter to sleep so he could go home for a while, but my nephew simply wouldn't relax; he kept asking for me instead. Dr Patel had concluded the child was too traumatized to relax in the hospital, but he hoped my presence would soothe him, and seeing the way Hunter brightened when he saw us confirmed that for him.

"Aunt Sookie!" Hunter yelled excitedly when he saw us there, seemingly oblivious to the plaster cast that ran from his fingers all the way to his armpit. "Uncle John! See, I knew they'd come," he told the doctor.

He sat up in bed and hugged us both enthusiastically, hitting me with his new plaster cast as he flung his arm around me. I rubbed my ribs for a second, then turned to greet the doctor, who was thinking how well the disguise I wore the last few times he'd seen me had worked.

"Dr. Patel," I said warmly, shaking his hand.

"Miss Stackhouse," the doctor smiled, then leaned in closer to whisper conspiratorially. "I really wouldn't have recognized you if Hunter hadn't told me who you were."

"Good," I smiled back. "I hope you understand why I was so secretive... if Hunter's Dad ever finds out I brought him here..."

Dr. Patel just nodded, and I 'heard' that he understood why I would fear Hunter's father.

"This is my boyfriend, John Quinn," I introduced him, and the two men shook hands.

Dr. Patel quickly sized up Quinn, and I was surprised by the accuracy of the doctor's assessment: he figured Quinn wasn't someone to mess with, but also somehow knew he was the kind of man who would never hurt anyone unless provoked. He decided in about two seconds that my boyfriend was exactly the kind of protector Hunter and I needed, but I caught hardly any of the thought process that led him to that conclusion. It was as though the physical observations he made - that Quinn was huge and exceptionally strong; that he had scars dating from around fifteen years ago on every visible bit of skin; that those scars were caused by violence rather than accidental injury; that there was genuine affection in the way he hugged Hunter; that the gentle, careful way a man his size has to handle a child came easily to him; and that Hunter was so delighted to see him - simply added up to that conclusion.

Then he clicked back into medical mode, somehow reading the scars on Quinn's arms to reveal that most were animal bites or scratches. As soon as he realized that, he made a quick visual check of the way Quinn's muscles attached to his bones, saw some very subtle difference to human anatomy, and chided himself for taking so long to realize he was a shifter. One more quick, darting glance told him that Quinn had a couple of patches of scar tissue on his scalp where hair would never grow back, and he briefly wondered whether something about shifter physiology stopped him having the hair transplants doctors would normally use to disguise the scars - or whether he simply chose to shave the remaining hair off instead. I made a mental note to ask Quinn about it; it had never occurred to me that his hair style might be a result of something other than simple preference, and I was curious about it now.

I had already known Dr. Patel was observant - he spotted something unusual about both Hunter's and my skin that told him we were a little different to other people the very first time we came in - but seeing how much he could 'read' from Quinn's scars was almost surreal. I briefly felt sympathy for him, knowing how hard it is to see things others don't, but then realized his ability wasn't a 'gift' like mine or Hunter's, but was instead the result of many years of careful observation and study.

_It's still hard for him_, Hunter told me silently. _His wife had a baby before they got married. He knows and he can't say anything. He hates it._

_I won't_, he then added, just as I went to remind him not to say things like that out loud.

"Is he going to be OK?" I asked the doctor. "What happened to him? They didn't tell me much on the phone."

"The three largest bones in his arm all have severe fractures," Dr. Patel told me somberly. "He's very lucky he didn't need surgery. It doesn't seem like the growth plates were damaged though, which is positive. If the fractures get a chance to heal properly, there shouldn't be any lasting deformity. His arm has to be treated carefully for that to happen, though. If he takes any more trauma before the bone's fully healed, he could have problems with his arm for the rest of his life. Even a minor fall could cause big problems."

I just nodded, understanding the subtext clearly: it was more important than ever to get Hunter away from his Dad, so his arm would have a chance to set properly and heal, without the risk of being hurt again.

"His father did this?" I asked tentatively, even though I already knew the answer.

The doctor nodded. "The police have taken him to the station now."

I 'heard' that Dr. Patel had to treat Remy as well - he was the only doctor on duty that night in the tiny rural hospital - and he'd found it hard to listen to Hunter's father ranting about how evil his son is, when he'd treated so many of the child's injuries. 'Hearing' the things Remy said about my nephew made me all the more determined to care for Hunter myself, so he'd be safe.

"Dr. Patel," I began, already using a pleading tone, "is there any way Hunter could come home with me, when you're done treating him? I'm his only living relative on his Mom's side. Well, apart from my brother, but he's in no position to care for a child. His Dad's family... they have some problems. I just wish there was some way I could look after him for a while, at least until his arm heals."

The doctor was thinking hard about what he should do. I 'heard' that the nurse I spoke to earlier had passed on my comments about Hunter's family situation, and the doctor had jumped to the conclusion (correctly, as it turned out) that Remy learned his child disciplinary practices at the hands of his own father.

"The decision about who cares for him isn't mine," he told me cautiously, although he had already decided to let Hunter leave with me, "but medically, it would be best if he goes home now. We've done all we can to treat the fractures, his arm just needs time to heal. He's scared to sleep here, so he needs to go somewhere he feels safer. He's been asking to go to your place, and he already seems more relaxed with you both here. It's not procedure to release a child into the care of anyone except a parent or guardian, but the police did say his father will be in jail for a while when he left here, days at least. With his mother gone, I'm not sure who else I could send him home with... I don't see any other relative volunteering to look after him right now, and it's always preferable for a child to be with family than in care. I doubt he'd be any more relaxed in a stranger's house than he would here."

He was trying out his reasoning for sending Hunter home with us, checking that it sounded as sensible aloud as it did in his head before he committed to doing something so unusual. Pleased with the logic of his argument, he decided he was going to bend the rules.

"OK, I think it would be best if he went home with both of you," he finally concluded.

I was so glad I threw my arms around him before I could think better of it, hugging him more tightly that I probably should've. My strength surprised him, confirming his suspicions that Hunter and I were a little different - but unlike most people, he wasn't scared of that.

"Thank you so much," I gushed. "I'm so glad I can keep him safe, even if it's just for a few days. I've been so worried about him, I'm so relieved he'll be with me so I can make sure he's properly cared for. Thank you so much."

"We're both really relieved," Quinn agreed, shaking the doctor's hand again, with a great deal more enthusiasm this time. "Thank you."

He couldn't stop smiling; I could feel that he was looking forward to having Hunter around.

"You can come stay with me for a little while, Hunter," I told my nephew, sitting down beside him on his hospital bed. "Would you like that?"

He nodded for about ten seconds, then burst into tears, as everything that had happened to him in the last few weeks finally caught up with him. I put my arms around him and he clung to me, sobbing, for a couple of minutes before finally calming down.

"Thanks for letting me go to Aunt Sookie's," he told the doctor as he blew his nose loudly. "Can I get out of here now?"

Hunter wouldn't let go of me for a second, and that made the doctor even more certain he was doing the right thing. He got the paperwork ready in record time, making sure we were long gone before anyone could intervene. He was mentally practicing his explanation for letting Hunter go home with me, but he was convinced that even if he was reprimanded for doing this, it would be worth it to know the child wouldn't be coming in with any more broken bones. He just hoped Child Protective Services saw things the same way he did.

Barely half an hour after I got to the hospital, Hunter had been signed over to my care, and the three of us headed back to Bon Temps. My nephew, who wouldn't sleep for a moment in the hospital bed, nodded off the second Quinn started the car and slept the whole way home.


	19. Books

When Quinn, Hunter and I got home from the hospital, Pam was sitting on my front porch, waiting patiently for us in vampire downtime.

"Pam," I greeted her warily as I slid out of Quinn's truck. He was already scooping my still-sleeping nephew up from the back seat, ready to go inside.

I wasn't pleased to see Pam, because I'd just found out that she was the 'witness' who would swear I pledged to Eric, giving him permission to turn me into a vampire. She wasn't in my good books tonight.

"What did you do to my Master?" she asked me, looking equally worried and annoyed. Well, showing just a hint of each, anyway. Vampires aren't big with the facial expressions.

Quinn raised his eyebrows. "Don't you mean, what did he do to her?"

"She is fine," she retorted, quickly looking me up and down. "Whereas Eric is behaving oddly. Something is wrong."

I sighed loudly. I'd had a long enough night already; more vampire crap was the last thing I needed.

"I just can't seem to care," Quinn shrugged. "I'm much more concerned about getting this little guy into bed before he wakes up."

"Join the club," I muttered, jealously watching as Quinn took Hunter inside to put him to bed, while I stayed on the porch with Pam. When it was a choice between tucking an adorable child in for the night or arguing with a vampire, guess which one I preferred?

"You have a child," she stated distractedly.

"Baby-sitting," I replied, not sure how much I should tell her about Hunter. The less vampires knew about him, the better.

"You don't care that your bonded is acting strangely?" Pam got back to the reason for her visit. "You don't care what's wrong with him?"

"Fine, tell me what's up." I crossed my arms as I said it, glaring at her.

"He's upset and he won't tell me why. He's in my house, which is strange enough... but he's there for my books. He has developed a sudden interest in feminist theory and relationship advice and romance novels. I can only assume you are to blame for this, you're usually the cause of his strange behavior."

I couldn't help laughing then, and I could feel that Quinn was chuckling as he tucked Hunter into bed, too. He has really good hearing.

"Shouldn't you invite me in to discuss this?" she demanded, looking more worried by the second. "This is what manners dictate you do now."

"No, they don't." I ground out through gritted teeth. "I don't know what the etiquette is, for dealing with the person who signed my death warrant, but I'm pretty sure I don't have to invite you in, Pam. Not now, and not ever again in the future."

"Ah," she smiled. "So he finally told you about the pledge."

"No, he didn't!" I snapped. "But he was stupid enough to mention it in front of Quinn, who actually explains things to me."

"Speak of the devil," Pam muttered, as Quinn sauntered out onto the porch and draped his arm around my waist casually.

"I don't think he meant to tell her, but he got in a snit about this," he traced the scar on his neck, "and starting blurting out all manner of bull crap."

"Why does he care that a fairy has claimed you?" she wondered aloud. "Surely this is better for him, that you aren't available any more?"

I could feel Quinn's eyes on me, and a moment later, Pam's were too. I was still glaring at her, too angry to speak.

"She did this?" She sounded astonished. "She has learned to take her true form?"

He just nodded.

"This is why he is so upset. She has claimed you as her own, when she knows she is his."

"And how exactly does she know that?" he asked, completely serious.

"They are blood bonded." She spoke slowly and carefully, as though speaking to someone mentally deficient.

"He closed the bond weeks ago," he corrected. "He's not her bonded when he keeps his end of it closed."

I 'heard' in Quinn's thoughts that a vampire closing their end of a blood bond was like a shifter abjuring their partner: a very permanent way to end a relationship. He didn't care what Eric said about me still being his; in Supe terms, he had split up with me by closing the bond. He figured that if Eric really wanted me back, all he had to do was open his end of the bond again, and he'd get me back easily. If he didn't do that, he didn't really want me.

He also wasn't surprised Eric kept saying the wrong thing to me now, because apparently any kind of supernatural bond was a two-way thing, and they only worked properly when both ends were strongly connected. Disconnecting one end made the whole magical connection go awry, and it usually had the opposite effect it had had before, pushing people apart instead of binding them together. By closing his end of the bond, Eric had guaranteed he would lose me.

"He's still doing that?" She seemed surprised.

She was staring at me for an answer, and I finally managed a little nod, still glaring and clenching my jaw.

"I see the problem," she admitted.

The three of us were silent for a long time, each apparently lost in thought. I could hardly bear to look at my once-friend; it really hurt that she was so willing to help Eric turn me, even though they both knew I didn't want that.

"How could you do that to me?" I finally asked her, trying to sound steady. "Help him trick me into pledging to him?"

"It improved your safety for a while." She said it as though she were simply stating the time of day, or something equally mundane. "It made it possible for him to keep you here. It was for the best."

I just shook my head. "I'm so sick of y'all meddling in my life," I spat out. "I wish you'd all just go away."

"That doesn't work on me," Pam retorted. "And I don't believe biting a smelly animal is all you did to Eric. He's too upset. What else did you do to him?"

"She didn't do anything," Quinn fumed. "He wouldn't listen when she said no to him, which apparently isn't anything new. If he's not feeling so great about that now, well, about fucking time."

"Oh." Her anger abruptly deflated, and she looked almost sad for a moment. "You are OK?" she asked me, sounding genuinely concerned.

"Not sure yet," I admitted, staring at my feet.

Quinn squeezed me tight, kissing the top of my head.

"I'm surprised he did that," she continued. "He borrowed a book from me about the way rape affects women after Bill violated you. He wished to help you, so you wouldn't be permanently damaged by the experience."

"Right," I huffed. "He charitably made sure I'd still be able to have sex."

"There was more to it than that," she insisted. "He wishes you to be happy."

"I am happy," I whispered. "Quinn makes me happy. Why can't he just leave me alone?" Tears were flooding my eyes again.

"You are his bonded," she stated, as though that explained it all.

Pam and I just stared at each other for a long moment. She didn't seem to know what to say, any more than I did.

"How long has it been since Eric had any woman in his life who was more than just... uh, hamburger meat to him?" Quinn asked, searching for an adequate analogy.

"He has had many favored pets," Pam told him bluntly. "Some he has even allowed to reside in his home."

Quinn was rolling his eyes at her; I could feel it. "He thinks of Sookie as a _pet_?" he snorted. "The Prince of all Fae's great-granddaughter is his _pet_? No wonder things have gone so well for him."

"No, she is his wife," she corrected. "I don't know how long it's been since he had one of those, perhaps since he was human."

"I'm not his wife," I grumbled wearily.

"I don't understand why you keep saying that." Pam's eyes were boring into me. "Aren't you honored he has chosen you?"

"Honored?" I sputtered. "Honored? He never bothered asking, he just... did this to me."

"There was nobody for him to ask." Pam said it as though that made sense somehow.

I was close to losing my temper, so Quinn stepped in before I could.

"I think she means you have no male guardian he could ask," he explained. "You don't really have any elders left, except Niall, who would never agree to a pledge, and Jason doesn't take care of you at all... I don't think it occurred to him to ask you, these things used to just be property deals, really."

I spun around to glare at him.

"Hey, don't shoot the messenger!" He put his hands up in surrender. "I'm not saying I think that, or that it's right, or any of that. All I'm saying is, I have to work with vamps every single effing day, and a lot of them missed the memo that women aren't anyone's property any more. We all take it for granted that if someone wants to marry you, they've gotta ask you about it first, but to vamps that's so new they're still waiting to see if it's a fad. I've heard vamps say it'll all blow over soon, that humans will get sick of divorcing each other and start letting their parents pick a suitable partner for them again." He shook his head, very glad that wasn't the case.

"Then it's good he's reading my books," Pam smiled. "They will tell him what has changed in the world."

"Are you sure about that?" Quinn asked her. "You've left him alone with Camille Paglia, _The Rules_, and a bunch of old-school rape-fest romance novels, and you think that's going to make things _better_?"

Pam stared at him for a moment, open-mouthed. "Oh," she finally said. "I hadn't thought of that."

"How do you know so much about this?" I asked. "You read old romance novels? And _The Rules_?"

"God, no!" he exclaimed. "Not by choice, anyway."

I just stared at him, not sure what he meant.

"None of the books I send my Mom can have any of her triggers in them."

"Triggers?"

"The stuff that sets her off. There's a heap of them... any mention of rape, or kidnap, or not-quite-consent, for a start. Or hunting. Or getting lost in the woods. Or a bunch of other, less obvious stuff; really anything where a woman's having things done to her against her will. And of course, she has to love romance novels..." he snorted, shaking his head in disbelief. "Every single book I get for her, I have to skim-read to make sure there's no trigger material anywhere. And she reads, like, a dozen a month, 'cos there's not much else to do in the nut house. And she can't choose anything herself, 'cos last time she did, she picked _The Handmaid's Tale _and almost killed two guards."

"How touching." Pam's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Aren't you the dutiful son."

"I'm not the one who's all upset 'cos Daddy's reading her books," Quinn shot back.

Pam stared at him for a moment, as though she were deciding whether to tear his throat out or not. Then she burst out laughing. "Touché," she smirked, evidently amused by his comment. "So what are we to do about Eric?" she pressed, turning back to me.

"I"m not going to do anything," I said simply. "If he wants to read a few books, good for him. Lord knows, he needs to."

"But he isn't well," she protested. "He barely eats, I rarely see him smile, his other appetites are also diminished... He isn't himself. Do you not wish to help him?"

"_Help him get back his appetite for random skanky fangbanger whores_?" I blurted out, my eyebrows shooting up as I said it. "NO!"

"But he must eat," she pleaded. "He is unwell. If he doesn't eat, he won't get better. All he needs to do is take a decent portion of blood from a hundred or so humans and he'll be fine again, back to his old self. You should help him, it endangers both of you when he's weak."

"No!" I repeated. "There's no way in a million years I'm gonna help with that!"

Quinn tried to step in then, to stop the argument getting any more heated. "Eric hasn't exactly been discrete about his feeding habits," he explained to Pam.

"Why should he be?" she replied, clearly puzzled by his comment. "Sookie makes no secret of hers."

"Yes, but Sookie doesn't fuck her meals." He was gritting his teeth as he said it. "She doesn't go about humiliating him with her food."

"No, but she humiliates him with you." She looked furious with both of us, as though we had no right to be together.

"I'm standing right here," I reminded them both, "and I don't much care if Eric feels humiliated now. I sat around waiting for him for way too long, and he spent all that time with other women. I'm not his any more. I won't be his ever again. I don't know if he sent those girls to Merlotte's deliberately or not, but I just can't forgive that." Tears were in my eyes as I said it. "I know they're just food to him... but it still hurts."

"You are jealous of his meals?" Pam stared at me in disbelief.

"I tried not to be," I apologized. "I really did. But I'm just not like that. I can't sleep alone each night while my _husband_ or whatever he thinks he is does all those things with all those other women." I was trying really hard not to cry, but it wasn't working.

"Why didn't you summon him?" she grilled me. "If you wished him in your bedchamber, why didn't you request his presence?"

I was biting my tongue so hard to keep from crying, I couldn't manage to answer. Quinn hugged me to his side, trying to comfort me.

"She's a fairy princess, Pam," he explained patiently. "She needs to be adored, it's in her nature. She shouldn't have to beg a man for his attention. She shouldn't just get the table scraps when he's done with everyone else. If he doesn't pine for her every second she's gone, he doesn't really appreciate her."

"He's told her that he does," she snorted. "It's not his fault that she doesn't listen to him."

"Oh, she listened to him," he rumbled. "She heard every one of the pretty lies he spouted to her face. Tried to believe them, too. But she also saw the things he'd been doing while they were apart in other women's memories, every time he summoned her to Fangtasia. To defile a blood bond like that... it can't mean a lot to him, to do that."

"That is a serious allegation." She looked a shade paler now, if such a thing were possible for a vampire.

"Then it's a good thing he left so much proof lying around," Quinn told her bluntly.

She stood there for a long moment, just looking back and forth between my boyfriend and I, as though she we thinking something through.

"You really have forsaken him?" she eventually asked me, speaking slowly and quietly. "This isn't a ploy to make him jealous?"

"No, I really have moved on," I told her firmly. "He should too."

"But you won't help him with that?"

"What can I even do to help him?" I demanded. "He doesn't need me. He's made that real clear."

Then I thought of something. I took Quinn's hand and tried projecting to him.

_Can I release Eric from his obligations as my bonded?_ I asked silently._ If I tell him he's free to do whatever he wants, does that mean he's not defiling the bond any more?_

The tangle of thoughts in Quinn's head confirmed that I could - and that he thought it was a really good idea.

"Pam," I began softly, "if it helps, I release Eric from his obligations to me as my bonded, from now on. I know that feeding on others when he could have me defiles our bond, but he can't have me any more, so he's free to feed on whoever he wants. And all that other stuff he gets up to, as well." I cringed. "All I ask in return, is that he leave Quinn and I alone."

"You don't want him to win you back?" She looked stunned.

I shook my head. "I'm done wishing he and I had some sort of relationship. He wants different women every night, and I'm not OK with that. I want someone who's with me all the time. I have that now, and I'm happy. He and I are over. You need to help him understand that."

She stared at me for a long time. "I have never known any woman to reject him," she finally stammered. Then she actually smiled at me. "My friend, you make my life very interesting indeed. I don't think I would tolerate his conduct either, if I were you."

"I'm glad to hear that," I smiled back. "You don't deserve that any more than I do."

She leaned in and kissed me on the cheek, hugging me awkwardly as she did. I let go of Quinn's hand and hugged her back properly, showing her how it's done. Being a vampire, she didn't have many friends who would hug her, so she didn't exactly get much practice.

"You smell wonderful as ever," she told me, sniffing my hair. "He will enjoy smelling you all over me. Might even take some blood."

I let go of her abruptly, shaking my head and rolling my eyes. "Goodbye, Pam." There was a distinct edge to my voice; I wasn't entirely sure I forgave her for going along with Eric's plot to trick me into pledging to him, even if she didn't have the option of defying her Maker.

"Goodbye, my friend," she smirked, still sniffing the air around me. "And I will hold you to that promise to write a book with me. I think I would like to know how you do it."

Then she was gone, disappearing into thin air the way vampires so love to do.

"A book?" Quinn raised an eyebrow at me.

"She has this idea that if we jointly wrote a guide to vampire-human relationships, it would sell really well," I rolled my eyes.

He thought about it for a moment, then nodded. "That's actually a pretty good idea."

He squeezed me briefly, kissed the top of my head and wandered back inside to check that Hunter was still asleep. I stared out into the cool night air, slowly processing everything that had happened that night.


	20. Reclaimed

_After everything that happened yesterday, you'd think I'd be tired enough to sleep_, I silently groused to myself.

It was almost 4am and I hadn't slept a wink yet, even though I'd been in bed nearly four hours. Quinn was asleep next to me; Hunter dozed peacefully in the spare room; Amelia and James hadn't yet returned from St. Louis; even Bill had given up prowling around the edge of my yard and headed home for the rest of the night... There were no waking minds to disturb me for miles, but still, I couldn't sleep.

Of all the things I had to worry about, you'd think the one that kept me awake at night would be the revelation that the pledge Eric tricked me into was a promise to let him turn me. Or my new status as guardian to my almost-five-year-old nephew. Or the fact that I very nearly died that night; out-witted by an opponent weaker, slower and less skilled than myself. But it wasn't any of those that kept me tossing and turning.

It was guilt.

I couldn't stop thinking of what happened between Eric and I, after he saved my life again that evening. Sure, I protested plenty... but that didn't change my reactions to him. Sure, the smarter part of my brain kept screaming that I was with Quinn now, that Eric was wrong for me, that I should do something to stop him... but I didn't. Some other part of me wanted to be there, wanted his hands and lips and fangs all over me, wanted him touching me that intimately again. I mean, it must've. I didn't teleport away like I could've, I stayed and let him do it. At the time, I told myself I had to give him blood or the police would find him there, but now I found my reasoning pathetic.

I rolled over to watch Quinn's chest rise and fall as he slept, hoping the sight of him might straighten out some of my tangled feelings. I studied his face, utterly relaxed as he slept next to me. The full lips, the smooth scalp, the slight indents where dimples form when he smiles... as I stared at him, the only word I could think was _MINE_. I let my eyes slide lower down his body to his bare chest, taking in the voluptuous bulges of muscle all over his arms and torso, the hard flat stomach, the delicious toasty color of his skin, even under the moonlight... I loved him, I was certain of that. He was mine, I was sure of that too. But was I his? I couldn't be certain, and that ate me up inside.

We hadn't made love that night after Pam left, and I was worried about that now. He didn't want to rush me into something I might not be ready for so soon after what happened with Eric, so he held back and let me make the first move... but I didn't. I wasn't sure what I wanted then, and I wasn't any more certain now, although I knew I would have to work it out soon. It had been twelve hours since we last made love, which was about as long as an imprinting couple could go without, and even as he slept, I felt a strong hum of lust in the back of his mind. I felt the same, and seeing that he was already half-hard in his sleep, it was all I could do not to roll on top of him immediately.

_Stupid imprinting_, I cursed silently, momentarily angry that yet another supernatural bond was interfering with my feelings.

As soon as I let myself think it, I knew I was wrong. These were my feelings, I realized. This wasn't like the blood bond; it wasn't something that started outside of me. I had always wanted love and commitment, had always hungered for what he offered me. But now I had it... it was so hard to let go of what else I had, too. Even if all I had was occasional sex with a vampire who fucks everyone but me, most days.

I tossed and turned some more, trying to figure out what I should do, and slowly Quinn's brain hummed back into alertness. I was facing away from him when his eyes finally opened, and the surge of lust I felt from him as he saw the curves of my body next to him almost undid me.

"Sookie?" he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. "What's wrong?"

I rolled over to face him, and when he saw the confusion, worry and guilt carved into my features, he immediately knew. He didn't bother saying anything, just pulled me to him, wrapping me in his arms and holding me.

"It doesn't matter," he whispered in my ear.

I pulled back to stare into his eyes, wondering what he meant by that.

"You're blood bonded to him, you're gonna feel something. As soon as it happened, I knew you'd never be free of him, that you could never be completely mine again. I've had a lot of time to think about that, and I can't say I like it, but I won't give you up just because he's got his fangs into some small part of you. If it's a choice between having most of you or none at all, I'll take most, and I'll be happy with that."

"Really?" I was blinking back tears as I said it.

He nodded, and I could feel the intensity of his gaze, even in the dark. "I love you. I won't lose you over this."

I pulled him towards me and he took my hint, kissing me softly. It was the sweetest, tenderest kiss he'd ever given me; a kiss that said he would forgive me anything. His mind was humming with love and desire, but my own was still full of guilt and shame. I wanted him, I loved him... but I didn't deserve him. It made no sense that he could kiss me so lovingly while I could still feel Eric's touch all over me. I hated myself for what I had done.

I pulled him with me as I rolled onto my back, letting him set the pace, so he could take what he wanted - what he deserved. His kisses became more passionate, and he shifted his weight to one arm so the other could caress up and down my side, stroking my skin the way I loved. It wasn't exciting me the way it usually did, though.

I could hear confused thoughts trying to take root in his mind, even as he let them go so he wouldn't annoy me with his mental chatter. First, he felt a niggling unease that something was different. Next, he started wondering if he was doing something wrong, because I wasn't responding with my usual enthusiasm. Then he realized it wasn't a matter of me not enjoying myself; I was being completely passive, letting him do whatever he wanted without expressing any of my own preferences. He didn't like that; he loved how sexual I usually was, and was dismayed to find that side of me suddenly under wraps, off limits to him.

He pulled back to stare at me in the moonlight, studying my face in the hope it said something different to what he knew it would. All he could see were hurt, anger, and shame. His only consolation was knowing he wasn't the one to make me feel that way, but he still hated seeing me like this. He knew I was trying to make this feel like an apology, trying to make up for my 'misdeeds' by letting him take anything he might want from me. He wasn't sure what to do about that; he was thinking he might be rushing me, that I might need more time. I didn't.

"Reclaim me?" I whispered shakily. "Make me yours again. Please?"

He heard what I said, but somehow also heard what I meant: that I wanted him to be forceful and possessive, to stake his claim over me in every way, so I was left in no doubt who I belonged to. I wanted him to take me back, to erase the feel of Eric's hands and mouth and fangs all over my body by leaving his own mark on me instead. I had never consciously tried to wipe away one lover's touch so I could re-commit to another before, had always let time do it for me, but I felt sure this would only work if he left an even deeper impression than Eric had.

But he shuddered at the thought of taking me the way Eric had, and I knew his answer before he said a word.

"Sookie, you're asking me to reclaim you on his terms," he told me gently, "and that just won't work. I know you're bonded to him, that you can't help wanting him sometimes... but whatever he does to you, however that excites you... I can't give you that..." He stopped speaking for a long moment, biting his tongue to keep his emotions in check. "All I have to offer is me, and what you're asking just isn't me. I'm sorry."

For a few seconds, I was certain he was turning me down, refusing to make love to me because Eric's touch was all over me and I couldn't work out any other way to wipe myself clean of it. My gut churned and tears welled up in my eyes, ready to spill over at any moment. But just before I could start crying, I was suddenly lying on my side with him spooned behind me, kissing that sensitive spot behind my ear as his hands caressed my whole body, gently stroking every inch of skin within his reach.

"What are you doing?" I asked, confused.

"Reclaiming my mate," he murmured in my ear. "Reminding you why you want to be mine."

It was nothing like I thought I needed, but pretty soon, it started to feel good. Really good. His touch was soothing and gentle, tender and sweet, his hands traveling my body as though it were the most beautiful place he'd ever been. He kept planting soft kisses on my neck and shoulder, occasionally moving to reach a different spot in a way that made his whole body shift against my back. I couldn't help but relax against him; the way he touched me made me feel so loved and valued that I melted in his arms. His mind buzzed with happiness whenever he was near me, and I could feel that he adored me, that I was special to him, that he wouldn't be satisfied until I was smiling again. A small grin worked its way across my features, and as he shifted against me next, my butt wriggled to tease him.

_Mmmm, there's my girl_, he thought happily, his way-too-sensitive nostrils detecting the very start of my arousal, just as I pressed back against him to feel how hard he was. His hands made one more trip over my body, the arm beneath me simply stroking the curve of my waist as his other hand slid up from my knee, pushing my nightgown just a little further up before he let it separate his hand from my skin, the thin fabric doing nothing to disguise the feel of his fingertips on my hip, then my ribcage, then the side of my breast... This time, instead of trailing up to my shoulder, then down my arm, they moved across my breast instead, narrowly missing my nipple as I moved my arm to give him access.

"Please," I hissed, my backside grinding against him involuntarily as his fingers teasingly kept going, gliding down my arm until they tangled with mine. I whimpered my disappointment at him holding my hand instead of touching my body, and as I did, his other hand stopped sliding back and forth over the curve of my waist, stroking my belly one last time before it crept up to my ribs, then the underside of my breast, before his thumb finally circled my nipple, just the way I wanted it to. I couldn't stifle a long, low moan as he did - not that I wanted to, of course.

That sound of raw animal passion stirred something in him, and for a split-second, hopeful thoughts ran through his head. He wanted to make me come right where we lay, just to remind me how good it felt when he touched me. Then he wanted to lick me, so he could taste every drop of pleasure he gave me. He hoped that by the time he was done I'd be begging him to fuck me, so he could slide deep inside me and drive me to one more peak, wanting me trembling around him as he filled me.

Then he was back in the moment, marveling at the softness of my breast in his hand, delighting in every little gasp and moan I made, going slowly mad as the movement of my ass against his boxer-clad cock made him throb more and more with the need to be buried inside me. I unlaced our fingers and let my hand wander all over him, quickly finding a high, firm buttock to dig my nails into, making him growl in my ear.

His hands were under my nightgown an instant later, hot and huge around my breasts, making me gasp and moan at his every touch. He knew just what I loved, and soon each hard nipple was gently squeezed between two of his fingers as his hands massaged me. I threw my head back in delight and his prickly feline tongue found my ear, kissing, licking, and breathing into it, pulling excited trembles from my body.

"God, you're beautiful," he murmured, tugging ever-so-softly at my nipples, making my moans louder and more desperate.

"I love you so, so much," he added a few moments later, rolling them between his fingers, twisting a little, and generally driving me wild with wanting him.

"Love you too," was all I managed to gasp as I moved my top leg back over his, hoping he'd touch me there. But he just kept playing with my breasts - which felt incredible, but would never make me come by itself. And the longer he did it, the more I needed to come.

"Please, John," I begged, knowing how much he loved hearing me ask for him.

I could feel happiness radiating off him as he wriggled back to make room, rolling me first onto my back, then my other side, so we lay facing one another. As soon as he could reach my lips he was kissing me, and this time, it was perfect. The sweet, tender way his lips melded with mine was so different from what happened the evening before, I couldn't help but feel I was with the right man. It wasn't until I felt him grinning against me that I realized I was making little 'mmmm' sounds, like someone enjoying the best meal of her life.

He pushed my nightgown up around my waist and slid his hands underneath it again, finding my nipples rock hard and practically begging for his touch. I pressed into his hands, needing him, urging him on, and he obliged me. He held each breast firmly as his thumbs flicked back and forth over the nipples, thrilled by the way his touch made me writhe and moan. _MINE_, he was thinking. _My woman, my mate, my love._

"Yes, yours," I agreed, barely able to form words. "All yours. Take me, please, take me."

I threw my leg over his hip and ground against his cock, hungry for him to slide inside me and ride me to a screaming climax. Or three. He kissed me instead, his tongue exploring and probing, reminding me why I was his by letting his lips alone make me dizzy. Then he pressed against me, moving his hips until the very tip of him found my nub, pulling a long, desperate moan from me as I bucked against him.

He pressed and released, pressed and released rhythmically, his hips driving me crazy as his hands toyed with my aching nipples and his mouth kept mine fascinated with its every move. I could barely remember the first time we did this, so long ago in my late cousin's apartment as he helped me sort out her things, but it felt right that he would reenact our first time together, would relive that moment as he reclaimed me now. I kissed him back fervently, my hips moving with his, the friction of the fabric that separated our bodies making the sensations all the more intense.

He was watching my face, I knew that, his eyes open as he kissed me so he could see my every delighted grimace, loving the way my eyelids fluttered as my eyes rolled back in my head. I was so turned on I didn't feel at all self-conscious about that; it just felt natural that he wanted to see me like this, lost in the overwhelming pleasure of his touch. Seeing me so close spurred him on, and as he pressed harder, I could hear my moans turn to screams turn to whimpers of need. Then he did something else to my nipples, one of those intense things I loved when I was just about to come, and I was suddenly riding the crest of that wave, oh-so-ready to be pushed over the edge into oblivion.

Just before I got there he eased off, leaving me right on edge but not yet letting me peak. I could feel that he was drawing this out, that he knew it would be even better for me if he did, but I couldn't help my sobs of disappointment, my body arching and aching and needing him so, so much.

"Open your eyes?" he whispered hungrily. "Please, look at me while you come? Let me watch you?"

I did as he asked and found myself staring straight into huge purple eyes, eyes that starved for me, eyes that worshiped me. I nodded frantically to tell him I'd give him exactly what he wanted, just please, please, finish me off, right now, please. He saw the need in my eyes and kissed me sweetly, still looking at me, acknowledging my hunger even as he did nothing to ease it - yet.

A few moments later he was pressing against me again, resuming his earlier torment, but doing it gently now to give him more time. He pressed and released, pressed and released until I was panting and whimpering once more, never taking his eyes off mine. He saw my pleasure, and my desperation, and my adoration of him all play across my face as he slowly, slowly pushed me back to the edge.

"Tell me how this feels?" he begged. "Tell me what it's like for you? Tell me what you're thinking when you look at me that way?"

I could feel how much he needed it, and even though I was so excited I could barely form words, I did my best to tell him exactly how it felt as he pleasured me senseless. He never stopped pressing and releasing, and my insides were already trembling for him.

"Yours, all yours," I babbled incoherently. "Please, please, more, now, please, John, please."

He was pressing harder against me, excited by my words and the wild look in my eye, knowing how close I was, wondering how good it felt.

"Feels great, so great, need more, God, please, please, fuck me, now, please, John, please, fuck me, please, please."

He couldn't keep his lips off mine any longer and kissed me deep and hard, even as I kept babbling every word that came into my head.

"Love you, so much, need you, John, fuck me, please, please, take me, claim me, please, fuck me, all yours, please, please..."

Then I was there, shuddering and trembling as the pleasure took over, his fingers and cock driving me to a long, intense climax.

"Oh God, oh God," I screamed as my hips rocked against him, my whole body rigid.

Then I went limp in his arms, still murmuring "oh God... oh God" as I slowly came down from my high. He rocked me gently, pressing against me to trigger the gentle aftershocks he knew I loved so much, staring into my eyes the whole time.

"Mmmm, if that was half as good as it sounded..." he purred, gazing at me adoringly.

"Better," I lazily corrected, my lips forming a goofy grin as I snuggled against him.

"Perfect," he grinned, and I could feel how pleased with himself he was, just for making me feel so good.

We kissed again, and even though I felt wonderfully sated, I could also feel him rock-hard against me, and already I wanted more. I started wriggling against him, delighted by the feel of his cock, so engorged it had to almost hurt.

"Please, please fuck me," I repeated, hoping he'd do as I asked this time. "Please John, now. Please."

He just stared at me for a moment, knowing that if he dared move, he'd be inside me before he could think, taking me hard and fast, maybe too hard and too fast. I sat up and pulled my nightgown over my head, threw it across the room, then lay back down to push my underwear off my hips. As soon as I was done kicking them off, I guided his hand into me, letting him feel my readiness. A low growl rumbled around his chest and he gave me a look that was completely feral, close to losing control.

He rolled me on top of him, staring at me hopefully, wanting me to take over and ride him, to take pleasure from his body in the way he loved so much. I leaned over to kiss him, my limbs all floppy with satisfaction, trying to be as demanding as he wanted me to be. But I still wasn't there yet; I still wanted to acquiesce to him, to be taken forcefully, to feel his desire overtake me. I was just about to apologize when he lifted me a little further up his body and took a tender nipple in his mouth, rasping it with his prickly tongue. I gasped and started grinding against him, getting his meaning immediately: if I wasn't desperate enough to take over and ride him yet, he'd just keep teasing me until I was.

Then he had hold of both my breasts, pushing them together so he could suck both nipples at once, and it was all I could do to whimper and rub myself against him. He grinned up at me, pleased it took so little to get me riding him, even if I wasn't doing it quite the way he really wanted yet. He lapped at my nipples eagerly, loving the sounds of desperation I made as he excited me all over again, driving me wild once more. His tongue worked me slowly, knowing just how long to tease me before I was ready for more.

When my grinding reached a suitably fevered pace, he finally let go of my breasts, lazily nibbling on each in turn as his hands took hold of my hips and pushed me, urging me forward so he could taste me. I resisted at first, sure I didn't deserve the extravagant enjoyment he offered so freely, wondering why he was still so good to me after what happened the evening before. But he kept on urging my hips forward, and I soon realized there was no hint of charity in his thoughts. He wanted this almost as much as I did: he loved the way I tasted; he loved the intimacy of being allowed access to those parts of me, of having my permission to look and touch and taste and smell; and most of all, he loved the way I reacted, the sounds and movements that told him I was in heaven, and that final flood of juices that left him in no doubt he had satisfied me. I couldn't help but smile as I felt his anticipation of this, delighted that it was almost as good for him as it was for me.

But when I finally let him push me forward, finally placed myself above him and offered him complete access to me, he did something I didn't expect. He turned his face to the side, his hand stroking my thigh as he searched for something. I couldn't work out what he was doing, why he was making me wait, what he thought he would find... until his deft fingers located the pair of puncture marks, so high on my thigh. I froze then, mortified that I was offering myself to him like this when I still wore another man's mark. My body went utterly rigid as I awaited his censure, expecting him to push me away at any moment. But he didn't.

When his tongue found the tiny wounds, he started licking them gently, puzzling me. After a few confused seconds, I finally remembered that his shifter saliva had healing properties; that the marks would disappear far sooner with his help than they would without. He was erasing Eric's mark from my thigh, in exactly the same manner as he was erasing his touch from the rest of me: gently, tenderly, and extremely pleasurably. His tongue teased my inner thigh as he worked on the punctures, making me squirm as I tried in vain to make him touch me where I needed him most.

I was wriggling and whimpering by the time he was done, wanting him so much I couldn't stay still. Just as I despaired of him ever satisfying me, he was suddenly finished with my thigh and moved swiftly to my nub instead, expertly drawing it into his mouth. I just managed to stay upright, shuddering and trembling above him as he pleasured me as thoroughly and comprehensively as anyone ever had. He was incredibly good at this, making me tingle all over far faster than I knew I could. I 'heard' that he was doing this quickly because he throbbed painfully with his own need, desperate to be inside me, to watch me take all of him, to stare into my eyes as I devoured all he offered me.

He did everything he could to thrill and delight me, mouth and hands working my body so skillfully I felt sure I would pass out, just from the overwhelming sensations he was creating. I couldn't withstand his attentions for long, my body jerking this way and that as I cried out over and over, dripping wet and hungry for him. His fingers were inside me but it wasn't enough, could never be enough, not after I had tasted his width and his heat and his graceful, fluid movements.

When he started humming against me as well, the vibrations felt so fantastic I couldn't help grinding against him, my body milking his fingers as a fiery snake of pleasure made its way up my spine, searing ecstasy through my nerves as it went. I'd never felt anything like it, and didn't realize how loudly I was screaming until Hunter's mind came back to life across the hall, woken by my shrieks of delight. Thankfully he knew about 'good screaming' already, and once his mind brushed mine and found me feeling great, he went right back to sleep, unconcerned.

I turned to jell-o as my climax finally finished, falling in a heap beside my tiger, my eyes closed as my mind floated in bliss. His huge, powerful hands stroked me tenderly and I grinned, never wanting this to stop.

I could feel how much he needed me though; how much it hurt to ignore his own arousal for so long, to concentrate on me instead of looking after himself. I wanted to make that all up to him, to repay his generosity by giving him exactly what he wanted. Everything he wanted.

"Condom," I murmured, still too ecstatic to move myself.

"Now?" he asked, surprised I wanted this so quickly. "Are you sure?"

My eyes fluttered open finally as I just grinned at him in response, nodding and biting my lip as I thought about how great this would feel.

He moved inhumanly quickly then, getting himself ready in under a second, then pulling me on top of his chest, his mind snarling _pleasepleaseplease nownownow _as his lust was finally allowed to take over. He expected me to slide back onto him, my body still limp with delight, but I knew what the tiger in him needed, knew what it would take to satisfy all of him the way he satisfied me.

I got up, watching his eyes shift from purple to amber and back again as he fought the urge to grab my hips and pull me back down onto him. Then I turned around and crawled down his body, 'presenting' to him in the way a tigress in heat would, inviting him to mount me by turning around and offering him my wet, swollen sex. He growled as I did, his tiger instincts screaming at him to take me while his human self fought to keep any control. I didn't stop to tease him, just moved down his body quickly, and still his hands twice made their way to my hips before he pulled them back again, determined to let me do this my way.

I took his hand and made him press on the underside of his cock the way he'd once shown me, knowing he was too excited to last long otherwise. Then I lined myself up, leaning right forward so he could see exactly what I was about to do, enjoying the desperate whines that escaped him as he saw his tip right there at my entrance, so big he always marveled that he could fit inside me at all. Then I sat right up and looked over my shoulder at his face as I slowly lowered myself onto him, taking him inch by inch, watching his features contort in delight the same way mine did as I gradually filled myself with him.

I could only take him halfway at first, but the scorching heat of him inside me made my body open to him quickly, letting me lower myself just a little further with each long, slow slide down onto him. His eyes were glued on me, flicking back and forth between watching me swallow him up, and studying the look on my face as I did. It was my favorite feeling, to be full of him like this, so wide and hard and hot and wonderful, and he could see that pleasure written all over my face.

"Oh, babe," he whimpered, as I finally sunk all the way down onto him. His eyes were full of love and adoration, even as his mind buzzed with intense, uncontrollable, animal lust.

"Feels so great," I told him, beckoning him to sit up and kiss me, which he immediately did.

As he sat up, his movement changed the angle of him within me, finally putting pressure on that amazing spot inside me. My hips made short, sharp little rolls then, taking more and more of that fantastic sensation, despite my previous intention to wait just a little longer. He beamed when he saw the desperate quality of my movements, thrilled I was finally taking pleasure in his body, just as he wanted me to. His hand in my hair kept my lips on his, our mouths dueling as his body moved with mine, pushing me to another peak.

"Oh, John," I moaned, my insides just starting to tremble around him. "So good. Love you."

Then I was there, my body shaking one more time, milking him, shattering for him. I was leaning back against him, loving the feel of his chest against my back, moaning for him as he kept on kissing me.

But even when he felt me come, he couldn't stop now, was too far gone, too overwhelmed by his own lust to even think about pausing. Perfect. He was finally taking me, claiming me, pushing me down onto his cock with far more force than he thought he should, making me whimper as our bodies slapped together. I knew exactly how to get what I wanted now, knew there was no way he could deny me when he needed this too.

"Fuck me," I begged again. "Oh God, please, fuck me."

He growled and suddenly I was on my belly, his arm under my hips to pull them up to him as he slammed back into me, all the way inside in a single smooth, hard movement. I made little appreciative noises the whole time, struggling to get my arms and legs under me to push back against him, to take him harder and faster and deeper and rougher. Presenting to him like a tigress in heat had let the tiger in him take over, and there was nothing human about the way he was moving within me. He growled and hissed as he rubbed my insides so fiercely I could do nothing but whimper, finally getting the animal as well as the man deep inside me.

I screamed "oh yes," over and over, knowing I had all of him at last and loving every second it it.

And just when I was sure his tiger instincts had taken over entirely, he surprised me by telling me exactly how he felt.

"So. Fucking. Beautiful," he panted in my ear, punctuating each word with a hard, fierce thrust into me. "So. Damn. Perfect. Love. You. My. Woman. All. Mine. Come. Now."

"Yes, yours," was all I managed to whimper in reply before I was there one last time, moaning my delight as he finished with me, roaring in my ear. Shuddering together, his body curled around mine, warming and protecting me as he held me tight, never wanting to let me go.

We stayed tangled together in a sweaty ball of satisfied flesh for a long time afterward, his lips caressing the back of my neck. His limp body was heavy on top of mine, but I didn't mind; it felt so right to have him resting on my back, softening inside me, wrapped all around me. But as soon as he recovered enough to realize he was resting his weight on me, he pulled us both onto our sides, cuddling me even closer. I smiled at the tender way he tended to me, brushing hair from my face as he arranged his limbs around mine.

Cocooned by his strong, warm body I drifted into a dreamless sleep, finally certain I was where I belonged.


	21. Secrets

My day started perfectly. I woke in my boyfriend's arms, warm and safe as he held me tight.

"Morning, beautiful," Quinn purred as I stretched against him.

I rolled over to face him, to cuddle and kiss him, to... well, was it my fault I always woke up horny? I liked to pretend it was the imprinting that made me feel like this, but truth be told, there had been many mornings when I'd needed just a little longer in bed before I could face the world with my usual cheery disposition, long before I knew anything about shifter mating practices.

I kissed him, pressing my body to his as his hands wrapped around my waist, pulling me in even closer.

"Morning," I grinned, delighted that he felt the same way I did.

His mind was vibrating with lust, telling me he'd been watching me sleep for hours, that he'd stayed in bed until I woke even though he needed barely half as much sleep as I did, cuddling my naked body because he knew I loved waking up in his arms. Well, and because he loved cuddling my naked body, even though it drove him utterly mad to do so when he couldn't have me right away.

As I kissed him again, the previous day's events slowly filtered back in, reminding me there were things I had to ask him, things I ignored the night before while I tried to untangle my feelings and assuage my guilt, things I still needed to deal with. I tried to convince myself they could all wait, but soon realized they couldn't. _How long 'til Hunter wakes up?_ I wondered. _How long 'til there's something else I have to deal with?_

I sighed loudly, annoyed I had to stop kissing him.

"Something on your mind?" he asked. He sounded like he was happy to discuss whatever it was, but he chose that moment to slide his hot, hard cock between my thighs, making me gasp.

For a moment, I could think of nothing but him; my body had the upper hand as I squeezed him tight, hungry for more. But those questions wouldn't go away, and I stopped moving a few seconds later. I expected him to be angry, or disappointed at least, but he wasn't; he knew he was being cheeky, and fully expected me to pull away from him so we could talk. So I didn't.

"I need to ask you some things," I told him, moving my face back a few inches but keeping my legs right where they were.

He stared at me in confusion, his mind still focused on the feel of my soft, smooth thighs enveloping his cock, even if they weren't clamped down tight any more, even if I wasn't rocking back and forth to tease him now. When it dawned on him that I might stay like this while we talked, the lust-addled part of his brain cheered, even as the tactical part warned him that he was at a major disadvantage, that I was distracting and tempting him, that he'd give anything to stay like this... and even more if I teased him again. He was generally wary of feminine wiles, but when he saw his own hunger mirrored in my eyes, he melted. He trusted me completely, and if I wanted to torment him sexually to 'make' him answer a few questions, he was more than willing.

"Mmmm, interrogate away," he purred, giving me a look that promised I wouldn't be the only one teasing.

I couldn't help a lusty grin, but stifled it quickly to try to look serious... even as he wriggled around, pretending to get comfortable, 'accidentally' sliding a little higher between my thighs to position himself achingly close to where I really wanted him. I bit my tongue to keep from moaning.

"What did you say to Eric to make him want to punch you yesterday?" I asked, starting with what felt like the easiest of my questions.

He burst out laughing, embracing me as he chortled happily. "Damn, that was a great segue way," he grinned, kissing me briefly.

I gave him a confused look and he knew he'd have to explain, bringing his laughter quickly under control. I had already 'heard' that he thought what we were doing was the perfect demonstration of some point he'd been trying to make the night before, but he hadn't given me any clues about what that point was, so I was left wondering what on earth he and Eric had discussed while I was gone.

"OK, after you went to see Hunter," he explained, "he was ranting at me for, I quote, 'treating you like a concubine and not a wife'. He wouldn't shut up about me 'inflicting my baser desires' on you," he rolled his eyes as he said it, "kept insisting there were some of a man's needs that a 'woman of worth' shouldn't have to deal with, things that weren't right to do with a wife, were only OK to do with, and I quote 'concubines and bed slaves and whores', and insisting I treated you like 'a concubine at best'."

"And you said?"

"I got pissed off and told him that if he bothered listening to you, he'd know that you wanted to deal with 'all of a man's desires', that you'd much rather do whatever it was he thought was beneath you than have your man go somewhere else for it, that you have a strong, healthy libido and 'baser desires' of your own and it was cruel of him to leave you unsatisfied to keep you on some ridiculous pedestal."

"And he punched you for that?"

"Yeah, tried to. Uh, do you find any of that offensive? I didn't mean it disrespectfully, but he acted as though I'd just called you something really bad."

I could feel that he meant all of it as a compliment, that he thought a strong libido, a 'wild streak' and an open-minded desire to satisfy a mate were all wonderful qualities for a woman to have, attributes that deserved admiration and respect. I placed a hand against his face and slipped deeper into his mind, not quite believing what I skimmed off the surface. The more I probed, the purer and simpler his feelings were. To him, sex was one of life's most worthwhile pursuits, something he'd never learned to feel guilty or ashamed about. Sex for its own sake was fine, but sex with a mate was something altogether more satisfying; sex as an expression of love; sex to help bond two people together; sex to bring new life into being. He genuinely loved how demanding I was, seeing it as a chance for more intimacy and pleasure, not at all concerned that being with me might take time away from his work, or that I might sometimes want more than he had to give. To him, having a mate meant keeping her satisfied, whatever she might want, and doing so was an honor, not a chore.

"You really feel that way?" I whispered, not quite believing it, no matter how deeply I looked into his mind.

He looked puzzled for a second, then realized the deep, unconscious feelings that had suddenly surfaced in his thoughts were my doing.

"You're my mate," he said simply, "it's my privilege to take care of your needs. _All_ your needs."

Feeling how deeply he meant it, I couldn't help but smile. But part of me simply wouldn't believe it; the part shaped by experience to know I was too demanding, too needy, unfeminine in the strength of my desires. I knew I offered intimacy too often, too easily, and deserved the rejections I often received in return. It wasn't right to ache like this, to want so much... he would humor me for a while, but then he would have more important things to do; that was simply how these things worked.

I started when his prickly tongue brushed my face, only realizing a moment later that he was licking tears away.

"What's wrong?" he asked, confused. "Did that sound like I don't think you can take care of yourself? I don't, honest, I just -"

"No," I shook my head, "it's not that... It's not what you said, it's..." I couldn't bring myself to say the rest, but he didn't speak, just waited patiently for me to finish. "I have a lot of needs," I finally whispered. "I don't expect you to... well, you know. I know I demand too much..."

My words wounded him deeply, the mere implication that he wouldn't be able to keep me satisfied hurting him in a way I hadn't expected.

"It's not you," I quickly added, "it's me, I... I'm too demanding, I know that... I'll try not to be, I promise... but if you need to say no sometimes..."

As soon as I mentioned him turning me down, he remembered what I'd unintentionally revealed about my relationship with Bill the previous evening, and it all clicked into place.

"This isn't about me, is it?" he asked, radiating relief. "This is about your exes, about things they did to you?"

"It's not really their fault that they... well, you know..."

"Couldn't keep you satisfied," he finished for me, his mind buzzing with joy.

"I don't see what's so great about that," I groused.

"Babe, you're telling me that you wanted more sex than the vampires you've dated, right?" He was delighted by the idea. "I knew fairies were impressive, but if even a vamp can't keep up with you, you really do have big lust. Big, big lust," he gave me another enormous grin.

"I don't know. I was Bill's assignment, not really his girlfriend. No wonder he didn't want me over there pestering him every night. And I really don't think I want more than Eric, he just wants to be with someone else most days, whereas I'd rather have the same person every day."

"You like to have sex every single day?" he asked excitedly, beaming at me when I reluctantly nodded. "Sometimes more than once a day?" His smile got even brighter when I nodded again. "And that's when you've been with someone a while, when you're past the initial craziness?" He was bursting with joy when I nodded to that as well. "Oh _man_," he exclaimed. "Just when I think you couldn't be any more perfect, you surprise me again. You're the _best,_ babe." He kissed me ferociously then, practically devouring me in his passion.

As he did, he was mentally picturing the next dozen or so years of our lives, daydreaming about what it would be like to make love to me every single day, sometimes two or three times a day. In his mind, it was great that I wanted sex almost as often as he did. He was wondering how long it would take to learn every inch of my body, to find out every single thing I liked. That led him to wondering how long it would take to try every single thing he liked all over again to see what it's like with me, which got him thinking about how much better everything was with me and trying to figure out how much of that was because I was so incredible in bed, and how much was because he loved me so much.

For a long moment, I shared his fantasy, loving the idea of a relationship where I didn't go wanting for physical affection. Then reality crashed back in. His job involved so much travel we would rarely see each other, making what he pictured completely impossible. By some fluke, he'd had a whole month off work to be with me, and it had been wonderful, but even getting an extra week here was only possible because I agreed to do some readings at a vampire event I still knew nothing about. Somehow, it made me furious that he had me believing such an impossible dream.

"Oh, right," I snapped, pulling away from him abruptly, "you'll be here having sex with me every single day of the week."

"If that's what you want." He was completely serious, which told me he was still living in fantasy-land.

I snorted. "Sure, and your job will be done by who exactly? The house brownies?"

He stared at me for a second, then cracked up laughing. "Oh, Gutteridge would love that..." he chortled, "a house brownie and a demon overlord working together... Man, that would be the best April Fool's Day prank ever... he's been hassling me to hire a PA for years, a brownie would be perfect! I wonder if I can find one in time... You have the best ideas, babe," he chuckled, kissing me on the tip of my nose.

I gritted my teeth to keep from losing my temper; I _hated_ being laughed at.

"I wasn't laughing at you," he reassured, as if he was reading my mind for once. "It's just such a funny idea. But you seem really upset now... what's wrong?" He stared at me expectantly until I gave in and told him.

"Look, I know this sounds great to you, but it won't be like your fantasies. Most of the time, you'll be gone for weeks at a time with your work, and I'll be here by myself, and it really won't be fun for me, wanting you and not being able to have you. At least you won't be right in front of me saying no, but still... I hate always being alone, especially when I'm with someone. Plus, if you're not here with me, and I know you really want to have sex a few times a day, then I'm gonna wonder what's happening while you're away, and-"

"Hey!" he cut me off. "That's not fair! I'm not Eric, I won't cheat on you. You have my word, and if that's not enough, you can read my mind any time you want to check up on me. I was faithful to you last time, and we only had sex, what, three or four times in however many months? I was only with you, from the first time I spoke to you, 'til weeks after you dumped me. I was climbing the walls most of the time, but I never had sex with anyone else. I was so sure you'd be worth the wait, and then you were even better, and I couldn't think of anyone else like that any more."

Every word of it was true, I could feel that clearly.

"I want _you_," he continued. "You're the best I've ever had, you drive me mad with lust, I love you like crazy, and you're enough for me. Especially if I get to have you every day," he grinned, thinking about all the different ways and places he wanted to make love to me.

"OK, I believe you," I conceded.

"I know I'm gonna have to figure something out with my work. I don't know exactly what I'll do yet, but I've mentioned the idea of me working out of Louisiana instead of Memphis a couple times, and my partners don't seem to mind. And I've got a few people who can handle routine events now, so I should be able to cut down on the ones I have to attend myself. And you're welcome to travel with me when I do have to go somewhere."

I was gobsmacked. "You'd do that for me?" I was so moved by the idea I could only manage a shaky little whisper.

"Of course. Why would I want to go to work when I could be here making love to you?" he grinned. "Being apart most of the time didn't work so great for either of us last time, and even if I was a big enough ass to want you to leave the place where your family have lived the last hundred seventy years to be with me, the fairy meadow was left in your care, and leaving a mystical hot spot unguarded is a bad idea. You belong here, I get that now."

"But don't you belong in Memphis?"

"I don't belong anywhere." He didn't pity himself at all, but there was still a note of sadness in his voice. "My house... I don't even go there, it's so empty and echoey. Frannie's in boarding school up north, Mom's in Arizona... My partners got another company apartment in Memphis because I stay in the first one so much. But the office there runs fine without me, I've been on the road most of the time for years. There's nothing much I'll miss there. Well, my favorite sushi place, but other than that."

His mind was usually still and orderly, but thinking about where he belonged caused a tangle of messy thoughts. I felt how much he craved a real home; his place in Memphis was a house (a huge, flashy one if the images I caught were accurate) but nothing more to him. He was already starting to think of my place as home, simply because there's someone who cares about him here... although he also loved the unpretentious comfort of the house, the acres of woods where he could run and hunt on a full moon, and the fairy meadow that made his shifter magic sizzle in his veins whenever he was near it, making him stronger and faster than ever.

"You like it here," I murmured, then kissed him sweetly.

"I really do," he grinned. "You're here, there's woods to run in, trees to climb, a real nasty warthog to go after if I need to hunt... you're even getting a swimming pool put in. It's like tiger heaven."

I laughed at the image of him splashing around in the pool in tiger form, made all the more amusing by his glee at the idea.

"Um, do you want your own set of keys to my place?" he then asked sheepishly, not quite sure why he was saying it.

I couldn't work out why he was asking, either. "I've never been there, and if you're never there... I'm not sure what I'd do with keys to a place in Memphis. I doubt my car would make it that far."

"That's what I figured." He was embarrassed he'd even asked.

"Why did you think I might?"

"Eric kept going on and on about it last night, that I treated you like, quote, 'a woman who will never hold the keys to my home'," he rolled his eyes. "It sounded like one of those weird old customs vampires sometimes get hung up on, but if it means something to you..."

"It doesn't," I reassured him. "But it does mean a lot that you'd think about moving to Louisiana to be close to me."

"I like it here," he shrugged.

"And you think I'm in some kind of danger again," I added, trying to casually bring up one of the other things I'd found out the night before, that we needed to discuss. "Because Bill's reporting everything I do to to someone. Someone other than Eric, I mean."

He sighed heavily. "Yeah, but I don't know who he's reporting to, or why," he grumbled. "He's good at keeping secrets, that one. Too good."

"Why does that bother you so much?"

He looked surprised for a moment. "Can't keep anything from a telepath, can I?" he quipped, smiling briefly. "Look, a big part of my job is making sure events we stage aren't interrupted by assassinations, or bombings, or cheating, or whatever else. Someone's always plotting something, especially the vamps, and our company has to know what's going down, when, why, who's in on it..."

"Security stuff," I nodded, thinking I understood what he was getting at.

"No, we contract out all the muscle work," he corrected. "That's the easy part. What we do... and this is all confidential, by the way, we don't even discuss it with our clients. They pay for the results but we don't tell them our methods, so you can't repeat this to anyone."

"I won't," I promised.

"We do a lot of intelligence gathering, surveillance and spying basically, plus counter-intelligence work too. We make it our business to know exactly who's planning to disrupt our events, and then we quietly make their plans go wrong. Some faulty detonators here, a too-strongly-drugged donor there, a power failure at just the wrong moment, a plane that gets delayed so the assassin misses his gig... we make it look accidental when we can, and when we can't, we know the players well enough that we can usually arrange for someone else to disrupt the plan. Angry ex-lovers are our favorite," he grinned, "vamps have so many, and you'd be surprised who turns up unexpectedly at our events."

"OK, what does that have to do with Bill spying on me?"

"Well..." he started nervously, "I'm kind of good at what I do. Tigers are naturally stealthy, and if I want to know something about someone, I can usually find out pretty quickly. I spend a lot of time working out what other people's spies are up to, and I get the job done."

"But you don't know what Bill's doing." I was starting to get the picture.

"Exactly. He reports in every night, I've heard him do it dozens of times now, and I still have no idea who he's talking to. He never gives me anything to work with - never addresses them by name, never asks a personal question, never lets anything slip. Even tracing the calls hasn't worked. The lengths he's gone to so nobody finds out who he's talking to... I thought keeping tabs on Sophie-Ann was hard work, and he clearly learned a few tricks from her, but he's taken it about ten steps further than even she would. I see vamps sneaking around every day at work, but his level of sneaky is something else. I had one of the specialists at work who owed me a favor check him out, and he's convinced Bill's a pro. I can't say I disagree, at this point. Especially because he's so casual about it, just whips a cell phone out of his pocket and chats away, like he's not up to anything at all."

"But who would even care what I do each day?" I asked incredulously. "I'm just a barmaid."

He rolled his eyes at me. "Firstly, you're telepathic, and secondly, you're the great-granddaughter of the Prince of all Fae. I can't see anyone kidnapping you to tend bar, but the other two make -"

"Kidnapping me?" I demanded. "You think someone's gonna kidnap me?"

"Looks like someone wants to," he sighed. "The most likely reason anyone would want to know all your movements is to get to you when you're not well guarded, which usually means a kidnap. Or to get onto your property undetected, but James and I deliberately left the place unattended a couple times to see if anyone turned up, and nobody did. You don't need to worry, though. You're safe here, they'd need a team of twenty or so to extract you, and if they haven't done it by now they're not gonna. If they want to get you unguarded, it means they're trying to do this quietly. Small team, no witnesses, location no-one's gonna think to check."

"And you didn't think to tell me any of this before?" I huffed.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "If I had any real information I would've told you, but vague threats don't help you stay safe, and if you start acting too vigilant they'll know we're onto them and switch to more aggressive tactics. Then James and I won't be enough to protect you, not even with you and Amelia's help. Seriously, you have to just keep to your routine now, as though you don't have any idea there's anything up. Whoever wants you is only biding their time because they're sure that sooner or later, you'll go somewhere without me, and they'll get their chance. If they realize their plan's been discovered, they'll abandon stealth tactics altogether and go with brute force instead. It's one of those horrible situations where telling you that you're in danger could actually put you in more danger, and I don't ever want to do anything that puts you in danger, so... well, I don't know if I made the right call or not."

I wanted to be mad at him for keeping it from me - I was itching to lose my temper over it - but that didn't seem entirely fair. I could feel that he just wanted me to be safe, and that he genuinely believed I'd be safer if I didn't know... but when I asked him outright, he immediately told me the truth.

"I'm not sure there is a right call," I muttered. "I hate people keeping things from me, and I hate people putting me in danger. I don't know which one I hate more."

He just nodded. "Well, if I have to choose between pissing you off or getting you kidnapped, I'll always pick option number one. Sorry."

"I'd be more pissed off if you got me kidnapped than I am that you didn't tell me," I conceded.

"That's good," he smiled. "Not completely the wrong call, then."

"I guess not," I sighed. "So someone wants to kidnap me and Bill's in on it. Just another day in Sookie's life, I guess."

"I don't know what Bill's motives are," he said tightly, "I've tried to draw him out, but he's not talking. Spies always have complex motives though, especially long-term ones. The best sources are always the ones who think they're doing the right thing by talking to you, they're the ones who give you everything. So don't be surprised if he's into something he knows very little about, or if he's been lied to so he'd cooperate."

I just nodded, still furious that Bill would tangle himself up in something like this.

"Is that all you wanted to ask me about?" he changed the subject, shifting between my thighs to remind me what we were doing before.

"No," I groaned, knowing the most difficult discussion was still ahead of me yet.


	22. Tiger

_WARNING: Spoilers from the CH short story _Wolfsbane and Mistletoe _ / _Gift Wrapped_ below._

_

* * *

_"What else is on your mind?" Quinn asked me, thrusting gently as he did, trying to distract me.

We were lying in bed facing one another, still completely naked from the night before. He'd been teasing me while we talked, his cock sandwiched between my thighs so he could occasionally move like he was now, reminding me what we could be doing instead.

I moaned long and low, enjoying myself, but equally knowing the most difficult discussion was still ahead of me. I said his name, trying to make it sound like a warning, but it came out as a plea instead.

"Mmm?" he asked, leaning over to kiss my collar bone.

"Stop it," I ordered him unconvincingly, making disappointed noises when he did as I said.

"What else did you want to ask me?" He sounded serious, suddenly, figuring this must be important if I'd delay making love to talk about it.

I stilled myself too, searching for the right words. "Uh, what Eric said about 'baser instincts'... are there things you need, that I'm not giving you? Tiger things, I mean. We hardly ever have sex the way tigers do, the tiger part of you must be pretty unhappy about that..."

"Huh?" He was really puzzled. "What do you mean, we never do it the way tigers do?"

"Well, I'm usually on top... and we're usually facing each other... and you don't hold me down or anything..."

He stared at me for a second to gauge whether I was serious or not, but even when he realized I was, he still couldn't help laughing at me. It was a deep, booming belly laugh, and after about thirty seconds of it, I was about ready to bite him.

"Oh, babe," he tried to calm himself, "that's just classic. I really need to get you some better books about animals, or something."

"But Amelia showed me videos," I protested. "On that web site with all the stupid clips. The female lies down on her belly and the guy gets behind her and holds onto her neck to keep her still... there were really disturbing close-ups and everything."

"Yeah, there are humans who really get off on watching animals mate," he rolled his eyes. "Sick fuckers." He found it bizarre that so many human males found the sight of a tigress' vagina far more appealing than he did, figuring they must have some sort of death wish.

"But isn't that what you need? The tiger part of you must be so unhappy, never getting to do it the way he wants."

"Babe, the tiger part of me is just as happy as the human part! Can't you feel that?"

"I guess so, but -"

"Look, tigers and tigresses only do it like that because it's about the only way their bodies fit together. Humans are incredibly lucky to have bodies that fit together a bunch of different ways, most animals don't. But weretigers... we pretty much only fuck the way tigers do on a full moon when we can't shift back. The rest of the time, we like having more options."

I couldn't help but breath a big sigh of relief.

"You were worried I'd try to fuck you in tiger form," he guessed correctly, horrified I could think that about him, but already wondering whether this was about someone else. "Did Alcide knot you?" he asked, his voice low and serious. Murderously serious. "I didn't see any scars, but with all the vamp blood you've had..."

"What?"

"When you were together, did he ever lose control and shift partly?"

"When he went after the guy that staked me... no, that's completely not what you're asking me, is it?"

"No, I mean, did he ever hurt you with his... anatomical differences?" He was trying really hard not to offend me with something.

"OK, what on earth are you talking about?" I still had no idea. "Knot me? What does that even mean?"

"Did you ever get stuck together? Did he ever kinda swell up while he was inside you so -"

"Wait, you think I had sex with Alcide?" I snapped, finally starting to catch on.

He looked really confused, and I could 'hear' why: Alcide had warned him off me, telling Quinn that he and I were engaged and were, quote, 'just going through a rough patch'. Quinn had asked around and quite a few people told him it was true, so he believed it, eventually figuring we must've split up.

"Oh no. No no no. I never had sex with him," I ranted, pulling away from him. "Never, ever. He only dated me because Eric made him, and the whole engagement thing... we needed an excuse for being at a bridal store where someone was murdered because we couldn't just say we were there to check on his Packmaster's second and that was all we came up with and I know it was dumb but the cops bought it, well kind of bought it, so it got us out of trouble... but no. Just no. I never, ever had sex with him. We kissed once, but it never happened again 'cos that bitch of his locked me in that car trunk and he told her we had sex and then got back together with her after she just... and she was engaged to this wereowl the whole time! She wrecked my effing wrap because he took me to her engagement party, and he bought me a nicer one to replace it, but seriously? I do not have sex with men who want their psycho ex more than me. Never, ever. I've only had sex with one person who's actually alive and that's you. Ever. Well, except..." my rant finished abruptly, all the fire suddenly gone out of me.

"Hey," he soothed, pulling me close again and cuddling me. "You can still say I'm the only one and it's still true, you didn't choose what that son of a bitch did to you. You don't have to count anything that happened without your consent."

He was one part furious that Alcide lied to him, one part furious about what Niall arranged for another fairy to do to me... and one part very, very happy that he was the only living lover I'd ever had. It pleased him far more than he thought it would, that I was all his in that way.

"I'm really glad too," I murmured, confusing him. "That you're the only one," I clarified.

"Yeah, I guess you can feel how pleased I am that you weren't ever with Alcide," he admitted sheepishly. "It's not like I wish you were a virgin or anything sick like that, he just has a reputation and I really hoped he never hurt you that way, I figured he mustn't have if you were willing to date a shifter again, although maybe he did and you knew it was just wolves that do that and you didn't know about tigers, so -"

"You're making no sense."

He finally realized I had no idea what he was talking about, and immediately regretted bringing it up, figuring he could've left me completely in the dark about whatever it was. When I glared at him, he knew I'd just heard him think that.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I don't usually try to keep things from you, it's just, all the unpleasant stuff about shifters... I keep clear of it all myself, and I'll keep you clear of it too, I promise, and I don't want you freaking out and leaving me because other shifters do some really messed up stuff, because I'll kill anyone who tries to do any of that shit to you." He was deadly serious; I could feel that.

"John, what are you talking about? What did you think Alcide did to me?" I asked.

He really wasn't looking forward to explaining this, I could feel that. "OK, you know how every species has anatomical differences? That you only really fit properly with your own species? Like male cats have the barbs I told you about, which work great for female cats, but I'm told just hurt awfully for other species which aren't built for that. Well wolves -"

"Wait, the females _like_ it? You said it hurt and they turned around and tried to claw out the guy's eyes right afterward?"

"Yeah, they do that too, but... you saw videos, right? You saw how they get mad, but then often kind of fall over in a heap and writhe around on their backs for a while, with a look on their face like, 'OK, I forgive you now'?" He looked almost pleased then.

"Yeah, to let the sperm get where it needs to go," I confirmed, repeating something the narrator said in one of the videos Amelia showed me.

He tried really hard not to burst out laughing, knowing it would piss me off, but simply couldn't stifle it; my words were really that funny to him.

"What?" I snapped.

"Babe, when you're having a really intense orgasm, are you thinking, 'this will help move sperm into my body'?"

"Uh, no. Is that what that rolling around thing the females do is? Kitty orgasm?"

He just nodded.

"But the males don't do that. Or in the videos on the internet they didn't, anyway, they just kind of looked pleased and snarled a bit..."

"No, we're like just about every other species, the girls get to have more fun," he shrugged, but I could feel he was more than a little jealous.

"Sure," I snorted, not believing that at all. I listened to people's thoughts all day, I knew for a fact that wasn't true. At least, not for humans.

"Females can have more intense orgasms, and more of them, in practically every species around," he insisted. "If you ask scientists about it, they'll tell you females evolved that way because pregnancy and childbirth are so dangerous, it has to be incredible so they keep wanting sex despite the risks. I don't know, I think having all those muscles you need to push out cubs helps, too."

"Cubs?" I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Sorry, babies," he apologized, making a mental note to use the human term instead of the tiger one when he asked me about... he stopped himself mid-thought, thinking, _Stop being such a fucking shifter, you only got her back three days ago, you can't go asking her that yet, you moron._ Then he noticed I was looking at him funny, and realized I'd just 'heard' all of that. He wanted to hide under a rock.

"Uh, you know about shifters and kids, right?" he asked me sheepishly.

When I shook my head, he was suddenly convinced I was about to run away screaming, and tried to think of a way to change the subject.

"John, I'm mated to a shifter, I think I have a right to know about shifter mating habits." I said it gently, but he could hear the cast-iron resolve in my voice.

He sighed loudly, knowing there was no way out of this now. "Look, shifters... we all get obsessed with having kids for a while. We go around convinced we want at least ten, and get into all sorts of trouble... man, the number of times I've gotten claws broken over -" he stopped short, thinking, _OK, that's not really relevant right now, is it?_ "But I wasn't mated at twenty-three like I should've been, and I've had years to accept that I wouldn't get to have any of my own, and at this point, even having one some day would be a huge bonus for me... hell, even having Hunter around is amazing. And I know it's way too soon to talk about this, so please don't freak out at me, but if you ever want to... I'd be so, so honored... and if you wind up adopting Hunter, I promised I'd help you and if you wanted to make that official... even that would be an honor."

"But he's not yours," I interrupted, wondering why he would offer to raise someone else's child.

"I'm a shifter," he shrugged, then realized he'd have to give me a better explanation. "Uh, you know that shifter couples can only have one kid together? I mean, that only their first-born can shift?" He was relieved when I nodded. "Well, there are plenty of couples who have a dozen kids who can all shift. Only the eldest is genetically the father's, but unless his mate cheats on him, all her children are considered his."

My brain went into total meltdown. "But she's having kids that aren't his," I stammered, "so she must've cheated."

He suddenly felt like he'd been backed into a corner, realizing he had no option but to spell out exactly how different shifters' morality is to humans'. He was really worried, knowing I was Christian, figuring I'd probably conclude he was evil after this.

"No," he disagreed, gritting his teeth as though it hurt to even say it, "to shifters, if her mate or his Packmaster are present when the child's conceived, it's his."

I stared at him in horror. "He has to watch while she..." I was so upset by the idea, I couldn't even say it. "Oh, how awful."

"I'm told it's not so bad if he can join in," he explained.

"Oh." I said, suddenly realizing what he meant. "Oh."

"But that's only how it happens if they choose a progenitor and do it privately, pack rituals aren't like that. Then he just has to watch, or has to fuck someone else while she's... I couldn't do that. I couldn't just pass you around a pack and..." he stopped talking, utterly enraged at the thought of his mate - me - being fucked by other people, knowing how it would tear him apart to see that... even though he knew that as a shifter, he wasn't supposed to feel jealous at all. Then he thought of the look I gave him when he talked about his past, and realized how much worse it would be if I ever saw or heard him with someone else (outside his memories, of course). He knew that if he ever made me look at him that way, he would never forgive himself.

"I'm so glad to hear that." I rubbed my face against his chest, telling him in tiger language that I'd never hurt him that way.

"I told you, I won't ever put you through any of those pack rituals." He took my face in his hands and tilted it up until he could look into my eyes. "I would kill every other shifter on earth before I'd let them hurt you like that." He meant it.

He kissed me gently and let me go, hoping I could still love him despite what he was. I did.

"So the rituals... the women must really hate them?" I asked weakly.

He just sighed. "Packs go to a lot of effort to break them in so they'll be OK about letting anyone fuck them. But still... if they're having sex with someone they find attractive, and he knows what he's doing and tries to make it good for them, it can be great. If they know and like each other, it can even be meaningful. But it doesn't matter who you're with, or how good they are... if you know that as soon as it's over, you'll have to submit to someone you hate, someone who repulses you... and they're gonna do things you don't like, because they can... and they'll either deliberately hurt you, or they just won't care if it's good for you or not..."

As he talked about it, memories of various things he'd seen at pack rituals over the years washed through his mind; a 'greatest hits' collection of the absolute worst things shifters do to one another sexually.

"Think about something else," I pleaded, when I could bear to see no more. "Please, don't think about that around me ever again."

I was close to tears over the things he'd had to witness, and his own rage at being powerless to stop so much of it just made it worse. For the first time, I realized he hated most other shifters. People like Sam who ran alone were fine in his eyes, but anyone who belonged to a pack was immediately suspect.

Thankfully, as soon as I asked, one of those doors closed in his mind, and all the awful images were gone.

"I'm sorry, babe," he murmured, planting soft little kisses all over my face and neck. "I didn't want to tell you... I wanted to protect you from all that... you won't ever have to attend any rituals, and I'll never let anyone do those things to you... I love you."

"I love you too," I whispered, my eyes squeezed shut, "and I want to give you everything you need, but if that's what shifters -"

He cut me off with a long, feral growl. "You think I want any of that? You think that's what I like?" he demanded, suddenly angry.

I interrupted him by licking the side of his neck, grooming him as another cat would to calm him down. It worked instantly; the veins that stood out of his neck in rage immediately subsiding as my tongue ran over them.

"I know how you feel about it," I murmured, licking him again. "I felt how upset you were that you couldn't stop it. I felt how ashamed you were to be a shifter, each time you saw other shifters doing those things." I had licked my way up to his cheekbone then, his skin salty against my tongue. "You're a good man, John."

He wrapped his arms around me and purred for a few moments, calmed by my words and my tongue and my skin against his.

"We're not all like that," he reassured me. "The better Packmasters... they make sure nobody has to do anything they don't want to, and they drum it into everyone that mating's supposed to be enjoyable, so you don't get selfish assholes sawing away at some woman's body like a wannabe porn star, jabbing her cervix 'til it bruises and then _boasting_ that she could barely walk afterward, as though that's a good thing."

I giggled at the mental image, thinking of some of the things I'd seen in women's thoughts over the years.

"It's not funny," he grumbled. "Doing that to someone who's still gotta fuck twenty other people afterward..."

My giggles stopped immediately. "OK, I am never, ever doing any of that," I told him, a bit too forcefully.

"Good," he grinned, pulling me closer to him. He saw my confusion and realized he'd have to explain. "Tigers like a mate who can keep them in line, remember?" he purred in my ear. "We want a woman all to ourselves for as long as possible, and we'll work damn hard to satisfy her so she won't want to fuck anyone else. We like a woman who bosses us around, tells us what she wants, insists that we give her -"

"But full-time tigers just get on top and hold her down once she submits to them and -"

He was laughing at me again. Deep, roaring belly laughter filled the whole room, and I was so sick of it that I nipped his shoulder.

In a way, biting him accomplished exactly what I hoped it would: he stopped laughing immediately. It didn't have quite the effect I wanted, though: instead of resuming a serious conversation, he was now serious about something completely different. He was giving me a look that begged me to roll on top of him, to push him onto his back and fuck him, to grind against his face as I screamed his name.

_Oh, boy_, I thought. This really wasn't what the web sites and videos Amelia showed me said about tiger mating habits...


	23. Discovery

"Babe, tigresses don't _submit_," Quinn told me, his voice husky. "When she turns around and shows her ass like that, she's not saying 'I'm sick of running away so I'll hold still while you inseminate me'. She's saying something more like the things you say when we make love... 'fuck me, please, make me come'. Animals can't tell each other in words what we want, so we find other ways. That posture where she sits down with her hips tilted a little, and then moves her tail to the side... she's saying 'enough with the foreplay, fuck me already'. She's making a demand of him, not giving in to something only he wants. You really don't refuse a tigress in heat when she tells you to fuck her," he grinned.

Lying in bed facing one another, I could feel that he'd had enough of talking. I'd asked him what the tiger part of him needed sexually, and he really wanted to just grab me and show me. No way was that gonna happen. Amelia had helped me find a whole lot of information about tiger mating habits on the internet a few days before, and he wasn't doing any of that stuff to me. I'd seen so many video clips: tigers in zoos mating, tigers in wildlife documentaries mating, tigers in tiny cages mating, and it all looked the same: nasty.

"But he grabs her neck and holds her still," I protested.

It was the part of his animal nature that I worried about the most, wondering how long it would be until the tiger won out, holding me down and biting me... it scared me senseless that he might do that to me one day; I knew I couldn't cope with it, not after everything else. When Bill did that kind of thing a couple years ago it was OK, but since then... so much had happened, and my feelings had changed.

"No, no, he doesn't," he sputtered, getting frustrated. "It's nothing like that. When humans watch animals mating, they see what they want to see: big, powerful men making meek, submissive women have sex." He glowered at the thought of it. "They just ignore all the careful approaches, the long courtship, the smooching and grooming and touching just a little, and then a little more, until she finally lets you get right next to her... they ignore that it's the woman looking for a mate, initiating it all... they don't want to see that. They edit it all to look like the female gives in and offers her ass to the pushy bastard, and he jumps on top and does her and then runs away. But it's not like that.

"If you and I were in animal form and some moron caught what we did in the kitchen yesterday morning on camera, they'd make it look like you just walked in and I fucked you and that's that... they'd ignore all the other great stuff we've been doing, so they can pretend animals do it the way they want human women to do it, and go around saying that's what's natural. Just because so many human men aren't much interested in courting, or foreplay, or in women being in control, doesn't mean animals feel the same way."

"But I saw videos!" I exclaimed, annoyed. "He bites the back of her neck really hard, so she can't get away. Just like you said shifters do."

He could see this was about to turn into a screaming argument, and knew that wouldn't help things at all - so he came up with another plan. An instant later, he was lying behind me instead of in front, not yet touching me but so, so close.

"Babe," he whispered in my ear, his voice low and seductive again, "if you had to keep all four paws on the ground so you didn't put weight on your mate and hurt her... if it was the only way your bodies really fit together... wouldn't you still want to touch her, the only way you could?"

Before I could answer, he planted a gentle little nip on the spot where my shoulder met my neck, making me gasp.

"And wouldn't it just seem so perfect, if you could reach one of the most sensitive parts of her body while you fucked her?"

He pushed my hair out of the way and ran his rough feline tongue over the back of my neck, from the spot he just nipped to the one behind my ear that made me melt... and then he nipped me there, too. I moaned when he did, trying to push back against him. He made sure I couldn't reach him, so the only place we were touching was the back of my neck.

He kept on teasing me, and as he licked and nibbled all over the back and side of my neck, then down towards my shoulder, I was trembling, shuddering, whimpering for him... I wanted his prickly tongue and his sharp teeth all over me, not just confined to one small, exquisitely sensitive area. But then I realized what he'd just told me, that this was all a tiger could do to touch his mate while he fucked her, and suddenly it all made sense. If you could touch your lover in only one place, of course those touches would get intense, out of control, a little rough even...

He bit down harder then, and I made one of those cries that sound almost pained, the pleasure so intense my brain couldn't work out quite how to respond. Then he rolled me onto my belly and crouched over me on all fours, pushing my hair out of the way so he could repeat everything he'd just done on the other side of my neck. 'Exquisite' was the only word that came to mind as I lay there panting beneath him, my tightly-closed eyes rolling back in my head with every rough little nip.

"If you were a tigress," he murmured in my ear, "the scruff of your neck would be about three times as sensitive, and every time someone you liked touched you there, it'd feel so right... you'd feel safe and protected and loved and like you kinda belong with them... I've been told that having her scruff bitten is like the tigress equivalent of having your nipples pinched really hard when you're just about to come."

He punctuated that last part by sliding his hands underneath me and giving both my nipples a sharp little tweak as he kept on biting my neck, and I responded exactly as a cat in heat would, pushing my ass up into the air so he could take me. He kept me right there for a couple of minutes, loving the sounds I made as he tormented my nipples and nape, loving the smell as I got wetter and wetter for him. When he finally slid his hands back out from under me and started kissing my neck instead of biting it, I whined at him for stopping.

"So... does the neck biting still freak you out?" he teased, tracing my ear with his rough tiger tongue.

I shook my head just a little, too turned on to talk, but also not wanting to move my ear away from his mouth. Then I remembered something else I'd seen.

"If it really feels that good," I murmured, "why would she try to move her neck away from him?"

"Huh?" He stopped for a second, perplexed. "I've never, ever seen a tigress try to escape a good scruff bite. All tigers love it."

"But they put their heads down between their paws when a guy tries to bite them there," I insisted.

He finally realized what I was talking about, and immediately started laughing again. "They're not trying to get away," he explained. "If she keeps crawling along the ground, or she rolls over underneath him and scratches his face... then, she's trying to stop him."

"Then what's she doing?"

"Lift your head up," he whispered in my ear, "and I'll show you."

I did as he asked, not at all sure what this would prove, and as soon as I lifted my head, he went to nip the back of my neck again. It was OK but not great this time, the skin of my neck bunched up too tightly for him to get much purchase on it. I immediately started lowering my head again, stretching my neck out as far as I could so he'd be able to bite it properly... and then I understood.

"You get it now?" He nipped my neck again as he asked, making me gasp and wriggle underneath him.

"No," I lied, "keep showing me."

He chuckled but did as I asked, nipping, licking and biting my tender nape until my whole body turned to jell-o. When I finally rolled over to face him, I knew I had a big, silly grin on my face, but I didn't care a bit.

"So tigers aren't nasty selfish brutes to their mate after all?" I smiled wickedly, knowing I was provoking him.

He just gave me an amused smile. "Have you ever seen a tigress up close?" He waited until I nodded; I'd seen one in a zoo once. "Would you try to make her do anything she didn't want to?" He was pleased when my eyes widened and I shook my head emphatically. "Tigers don't feel all that differently... we might be bigger and stronger, but her claws are still just as sharp, and she's really quick with them when she wants to be. She can take an eye out before you can blink, if you piss her off. Anyone with even a tenth of a brain makes sure a tigress is cool with it before they get close to her. Besides, it's more fun when your mate's really into it... and the more she likes it, the more times you get to do it." He gave me a goofy grin.

"Is your scruff really sensitive?" I asked curiously.

His expression and his brain patterns both turned really excited. "Find out," he managed to gasp, his mind full of lust at the thought of it.

I reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, noticing for the first time that the skin there stretched far more than a regular human's. As I massaged his nape, pinching and stretching the elastic flesh, a look of utter bliss came over him, his smile making his cheeks dimple deeply, his posture utterly relaxed even on hands and knees above me. When I dug my fingernails in as well, he started moaning softly.

Then I remembered something else that tigers were supposed to like. I reached up to his chest and started kneading his flesh like a cat would, squeezing and releasing rhythmically with my nails, while my other hand kept tormenting the scruff of his neck. He just stared at me in wonder, trilling "oh babe" softly, over and over, his mind awash with ecstasy as my hand worked all over his chest. Having a handful of hard pec to dig my nails into was especially nice, and they got a lot of kneading before I was done. Each time one of my nails pressed into a nipple he looked like he was going to go into orbit, which was really, really fun to watch.

"You remind me of the tiger in one of those videos Amelia showed me, smiling like that," I giggled, staring at his blissed-out expression.

"Really?" he was surprised. "I've never seen a tiger get this happy over sex."

"No, he wasn't," I confirmed. "The tigress got confused or something and hopped on top of him instead. He was doing that kinda half-lying, half-sitting thing tigers do and she was rubbing against his ass and -"

"Huh?" He knew exactly what I meant but was pretending he didn't, hoping I'd play along and humor him. "You mean like this?" He lay down on his side next to me, his legs curled beside him, his shoulders turned forward so his weight was on his elbows, and looked at me. Watching him was almost pornographic, his movement so sinuous, muscles rippling as he re-arranged his body with the grace only a cat can.

"Yeah," I agreed, laughing at him. "And she kind of got on top of him and started rubbing against him..."

"Show me?" he begged, his mind buzzing with lust.

I was giggling as I sat myself up and knelt over him, moving just behind his body so I could rub against his fabulous butt cheeks... but as soon as I started grinding against him, my giggles turned to loud, lusty moans. I rubbed against him more forcefully, loving the feel of smooth, hard muscle against those sensitive parts, my knees sliding wider and wider apart so I could press my clit right against him. I humped him enthusiastically, surprised by how good it felt to rub myself against his ass, and he moved with me to make it feel even better.

"Mmmm, I can tell why this would make a tiger really happy," he grinned, watching me over his shoulder.

"She was doing this, too," I panted, kneading his lower belly, and he started purring loudly. My hands found their way to his mound and he gasped, the feel of my nails digging into the sensitive flesh driving him completely mad. As I alternated hands every few seconds, his eyes started flickering between purple and amber, the tiger part of him close to the surface, enraptured by my attentions.

Then I remembered what else I'd seen, and leaned right over him, reaching as far along his body as I could while I humped him hungrily. At first I could only reach his shoulder blade, so I nipped him there. As soon as I did, he knew what I was trying to do and raised himself up higher, pressing his hands into the mattress instead of his elbows so his neck was in my reach, stretching it out in offering to me.

I bit down on his nape, tugging at the supple flesh, and 'hearing' how amazing it felt for him when my teeth held his scruff pushed me right over the edge. A deep, intense orgasm shook my body, pulling a long, low moan from me as I fell forward, still rubbing against him. I shuddered for a long time, lying limp on top of him as he turned his head to kiss my forehead, the only part of me he could reach. It was only while I was basking in the wonderful afterglow that I realized I'd bitten down hard when I came, drawing blood as my teeth dug into his scruff.

"Was that OK?" I whispered in his ear, determined not to freak out unless I'd actually hurt him. _Tigers like being bitten_, I reminded myself.

"OK?" He answered, grinning over his shoulder at me. "No, it was fucking awesome."

I giggled then. "Yeah, the tiger in that video kinda looked happier than all the others combined."

He just nodded in agreement, thinking how amazing it was that I'd hump him like a tigress in heat, even biting his scruff as I did. Apparently that was a big treat for a tiger; they were usually the biters, not the bite-ees, and absolutely loved it when someone returned the favor.

I was still grinning blissfully as I slid off him, landing on my back beside him with my legs draped over his. He shifted onto his side and curled around me, so we could cuddle some more... but then I realized what I'd just done.

"Aarrgghh," I groaned, covering my hands with my face. "I can't believe I'm taking sex tips from the Discovery Channel!"

He burst out laughing, pulling one hand away from my face so he could plant little kisses all over me.

"You're mated to a wild beast now," he teased. "Where else would you get sex tips? Besides, human porn's a million times worse than watching animals do it."

"How do you figure that?" I asked skeptically, certain it was far more depraved to watch animals having sex than people.

"Well, if you started watching that crap," he whispered in my ear, "you might get the same stupid ideas humans get from it... like thinking these would be better with hard lumps of plasticky stuff in them..."

He slid just a little way down my body, massaging one of my breasts gently as he planted kisses all over the other, practically worshiping them. I could 'hear' that to him, they were utterly perfect, a handful for even a man of his size, with just the right blend of softness and firmness, and he thought my aureoles were the most gorgeous color he'd ever seen. My soft, happy moans weren't enough for him though, not nearly an adequate testament to his love of my body, so he turned his attention to my nipples. With his fingers circling one and his mouth wrapped around the other, those little happy moans soon turned louder and more intense... which was far more to his liking.

"...or that sticking-out bones are a bigger turn-on than this..."

He slid down further, his mouth finding the thin layer of padding that covered my hip bones, kissing and nipping it until he had me squirming. As he did, his hands stroked my curves, caressing the section where ribs nipped in to waist flared out to hips. He rubbed his cock against my leg as he did, letting me feel what my soft, rounded contours did to him. He was dripping with arousal, so turned on just from touching me that he throbbed almost painfully. He looked up into my eyes then, staring at me with an intoxicating mix of reverence and lust.

"...or that there's something wrong with having fur..."

I giggled as he said it, but he was between my legs a moment later, pushing them wide apart so he could play with my fine blond curls, delighted that I wasn't fashion-conscious enough to have it all ripped out so I looked pre-pubescent again. He _hated_ that look.

He buried his face in my 'fur' for a few seconds, moving around so the short hairs tickled him, then pulled back with a bunch of them still caught in his mouth, tugging on them gently in a way that caused the most incredible sensations, all around the spot where I wanted them most. He was gazing into my eyes the whole time, watching me bite my lip and whimper with need, thinking how beautiful I was.

He let those few golden strands slide through his teeth slowly, then tugged them again, and again... his hands tormented my entrance in just the same way, tugging the hairs gently over and over, timing it so intense sensation moved all around, bursting first from one spot, then another and another... I couldn't look away from him, hoping my eyes were begging loudly for what my mouth couldn't form words to ask for. He saw my need and kept teasing me, loving the sound of my anguished cries, so desperate for just that little bit more...

When he finally touched his tongue to my nub, I came almost instantly, so worked up from what he'd been doing that I couldn't hold on, couldn't savor his touch, no matter how much I wanted to. He saw the mix of ecstasy and hunger on my face as I squirmed and screamed beneath him and chuckled, knowing just what he did to me and loving that he could.

Then his mouth was all around that tender pearl, sucking it so, so gently, and after a few agonizing seconds when it was too much, the flesh so sensitive any touch was unbearable, it suddenly felt incredible again. I let out a long, satisfied sigh and he sucked just a little harder, and then a little more, until I was writhing around underneath him. Then his fingers were inside me as well, claiming and stretching and stroking every part of me, and my bucking hips nearly threw him off me as my insides trembled for him once more.

By the time I opened my eyes afterward, he was already above me, his intent absolutely clear: the condom told me he was going to fuck me, but it was his wild amber eyes that said it would be a long, hard ride that would leave me tender all over. He was certain I was ready, that he'd kissed and caressed and licked and fingered my body to that point where anything was possible, but he paused anyway, giving me a few seconds to tell him if I wanted him to slow down. I didn't.

He lifted my hips off the bed and drove into me, his aim utterly perfect as he hit just the right spot, first time. He was very, very happy with himself as he watched me throw my head back harder into the pillow, my features bathed in bliss, and I was very, very happy with him too.

"...or you might even get the idea that a man has to bang away at you for hours to make you scream his name..."

I only barely registered his words, and he knew it. He was stroking that wonderful spot inside me so hard, so fast that all I could do was scream, the feeling so intense, so brilliant I was utterly beyond words. _Say my name_, he thought loudly, _ or I'll stop_.

"Oh, John," I managed to gasp, then immediately started screaming again, "oh John oh John oh John oh John oh John OH JOHN."

I opened my eyes just in time, so I was staring up at him as my body milked him convulsively, his grin enormous as he watched me explode. But it still wasn't enough. As he felt my climax ebb, he suddenly drove all the way into me, hard, forcing me to stretch all around him. My eyes flew open again, and for just a second it was too much, it hurt... and then I was coming again, the intense new stimulation just what I needed to draw this out. I was all screamed out, but the little gasping cries I made as my insides trembled told him I was still going, and he smiled even more.

He gently lowered my hips back down to the bed, lying on top of me with just enough weight on his elbows that he didn't hurt me - and just enough weight on me that I felt deliciously trapped by his huge, strong body. Then his lips were on mine, hot and passionate, kissing me as deeply as I'd ever been kissed, determined to rouse my limp, sated body for just a little more fun.

"Not done yet?" he asked hopefully, when I finally started kissing him back just as hungrily as he kissed me.

"Not hardly," I grinned. "Any other dumb ideas you don't want me getting?" I teased.

"Just one," he growled, making himself stay still just a moment longer, despite his desperate hunger to move inside me. "Those fake plastic nails, they don't feel half as good as the real thing..."

He gave me a hungry look and I took the hint, digging my nails into his back, which earned me a long, low, feral snarl. Yum. I dug them in even harder and he kissed me again, loving it when I bit his lip as well. He was moving now, hard and fast, staying as deep inside me as he could while his hips pumped compulsively, keeping in almost constant contact with my tender, tender nub. I wrapped my legs around him and held on tight, overwhelmed by the feel of him filling me and pounding my clit, all at the same time.

As the pleasure built within me, I clawed at his back and his scruff, his growls so exciting I was desperate for more. It took a few minutes for me to get there again, milking him, trembling for him, but once I did, it was like I couldn't stop. Each time my body tried to come down from its high he was still there, still moving, still stretching me all around him as he pressed against my clit. The pleasure simply didn't end, each climax rolling straight into the next as the onslaught of wonderful sensation kept going and going. It was all I could do to whimper as my body trembled beneath him, tensing and releasing around him as my nails dug deeper and deeper into his back.

Finally, when I knew I was just about done, that my body could take no more of the endless, incredible bliss he was pounding into me, I grabbed his scruff again, tugging it hard as I bit his lip once more. It was all he needed, his body already overstimulated by the feel of me contracting all around him, over and over, for minutes on end. He roared as he came, and for the first time ever I was disappointed, wishing I could feel his hot liquid spill into me as he finished, my body managing one last wonderful aftershock as he pumped inside me.

When I looked up into his eyes they were still completely amber, and I knew it had been the tiger part of him in control as he fucked me into oblivion so wonderfully. I knew in an instant that I need never fear that part of him again; that if tigers were religious, fairies would be their Gods and Goddesses; that the animal in him loved me just as the man did, tenderly and unconditionally.

He collapsed on top of me, only just managing not to squash me as he did, barely conscious enough to make his elbows take some of his weight as his shoulders sagged forwards onto me. I held him tight, my body still twitching around him occasionally as though it still couldn't quite figure out how to stop. He was like a hot, comforting blanket of muscle covering me, albeit one that penetrated me to my very core, damp with sweat and panting in my ear as he recovered. Perfect. I had the giggles again, those happy hormones scrambling my brain to the point that even if nothing was funny, I was still full of glee.

"Mmmm, that was so great," he finally managed to mumble in my ear. "God, you're amazing, babe."

I giggled some more, planting kisses all over his shoulder.

"I could say the same for you," I purred. "I don't know what that was, but it sure was something else."

He pulled back to stare at me. "That's never happened to you before?" he asked, astonished. "Never?"

"Uh-uh," I shook my head. "Is that even normal? For it to happen so many times, or for so long, or whatever that was?"

"Oh _man_," he grinned, kissing me fiercely. "You just had multiple orgasms for the first time." He was radiating joy now, thrilled for me.

"You've seen that before?"

"Yeah, but I've never felt like I could take credit for it," he beamed. "But I was on top and doing most of the work so -"

"Yes, you can take full credit for it," I giggled.

"Oh, _man_," he repeated, looking even more overjoyed, if such a thing were possible.

I dissolved into another fit of giggles. "You look so happy, you'd think you were the one who just had multiple orgasms," I teased.

He just beamed back and kissed me again, overflowing with pride.

I could 'hear' that he'd been secretly worried it wasn't just the blood bond that kept me wanting Eric; that I would always miss the skills of a man with a thousand years' practice... who had bedded, by his own admission, _at least_ a quarter of a million people, possibly double that... whose reputation as a lover was apparently legendary on five continents... and on top of all that _never had to breath_. When I realized why he thought that last part was so important, I couldn't help but blush a little. To have pleasured me in some way that no-one else ever had made him unimaginably happy, hopeful he might satisfy me fully, one day. He just didn't seem to realize that he already did.

"Nobody's ever cared about satisfying me as much as you do," I murmured, trying to tell him how great he was.

But he just shrugged it off. "You're my mate," was all he said, as though that completely explained his devotion to me.

I pulled him down to kiss me some more, and it seemed like he finally understood how happy I was to be with him, how much I appreciated all he did for me, how much I was looking forward to spending the rest of my life in his arms. We kissed for a long time, staying locked together as long as we could, until he heard Hunter stirring across the hallway and we both knew we had to get up.

"Mmmm, when my day starts this well, what could possibly go wrong?" I grinned, as we untangled ourselves to face the world.

"Famous last words," he chuckled, not really meaning it.

But unfortunately, he was right: by ten o'clock that morning, barely an hour later, the police would be pounding on my door.


	24. Strangers

Hunter assured me he could eat his food all by himself, 'like a big boy', but the plaster cast on his right arm made that a lot harder than usual. He knew he would try and ultimately fail - he'd seen it happen - but he still wouldn't accept any help. He struggled for a few minutes, his pancakes getting colder by the second, until Quinn finally stepped in and cut them into bite-size morsels, moving at shifter speed so he was done before my nephew could protest. He actually managed to surprise Hunter, by coming up with the idea and carrying it out in under a second, so there was no time for tantrums.

"Hey!" Hunter protested. "I can use a knife and fork."

Quinn just shrugged. "Yeah, and I can walk. Except when both my legs were broken, then I couldn't. I had plaster casts just like yours. Ask Aunt Sookie about it."

"You wanted to do sex with her. In the hospital bed. But you couldn't."

I could feel myself turning bright red, mortified that my almost-five year old nephew knew about that. Just when he'd managed to look like a normal child for ten whole minutes, he came out with something else he shouldn't have known; couldn't have known by any conventional means.

"I'm special," he reminded me, smiling across the table as he eavesdropped on my thoughts.

"Yes, you are," I agreed. _Sometimes too special_, I couldn't help adding, but he just ignored me.

As Hunter began shoveling pancake into this mouth, there was a knock on my front door: a loud, officious knock. I was surprised, but Quinn wasn't; he'd heard someone pull into my driveway a minute earlier. Three cars, in fact. I'd been too focused on Hunter to 'hear' him notice.

I sighed and got up, heading to the door to greet whoever it was. Quinn quickly scanned the kitchen, making sure Hunter would be safe there for a minute, then followed me along the hallway. He had reverted to the alert calm of a seasoned fighter, ready to deal with it if our visitor brought trouble.

They did.

When I opened the door, three people were standing on my porch: Andy Bellefleur; a uniformed police officer who I didn't recognize; and a woman about my age who seemed familiar, but I couldn't place her. Andy I knew well: he was a local detective who'd lived here in Bon Temps his whole life, just as I had. The other officer looked forty-ish, with a tall, lanky body, a small belly and dark hair, plus a mustache that was last fashionable about when he was in his teens. The woman was gorgeous, but hid it well. A frumpy outfit concealed her lithe figure; her long, glossy chestnut hair was pulled back in a ponytail; and glasses partly hid her emerald eyes. It was as though she wanted people to see past her incredible beauty and value her for more than that. I liked her immediately, feeling like I knew her somehow, even though I was sure I'd never seen her before.

All three were extremely tense, convinced they were about to see something terrible. My first thought was, _Oh shit, they know about Debbie Pelt_, but I caught no echo of that in their minds. Whatever they were concerned about, they thought it was happening that very moment.

I knew right away that I had to be as gracious as I could, to try and allay their suspicions. I was about to take Quinn's hand and 'tell' him as much, but he already knew; he had read from their body language what I read from their minds.

"Hi Andy," I greeted him, a little too brightly. "Come on in."

"Sookie," he smiled back, trying to hide how worried he was, then followed me as I ushered our visitors into the living room.

"You remember my boyfriend, John Quinn," I began the introductions.

"Good to see you again," Andy nooded. "This is Sergeant Fortier from Red River Parish, and this is Angela Barclay from Community Services in Natchitoches. Marc, Angela, this is Sookie Stackhouse, the woman y'all came to see."

We got our 'pleased to meetcha's and 'howdedoo's out of the way, shaking hands and greeting the new arrivals. They had come a long way to see us - Natchitoches was even further away than Red Ditch, and the woman's work day must've started early for her to be here now.

"Can I get y'all tea or coffee?" I offered, determined to be a good hostess. "I just juiced some oranges and I can do a few more if you'd like?"

There were uncomfortable head shakes all around; none of them were willing to accept my hospitality, which worried me.

_It's OK, they'll change their minds_, Hunter silently assured me, completely relaxed as he kept on eating in the kitchen. I wasn't sure whether he meant it about the drinks or something else, but I didn't have time to dwell on that right now.

"What can I do for y'all?" I asked.

"Sookie," Andy shifted uncomfortably, "there's been an, uh, allegation made, that you and your boyfriend, uh, kidnapped a child from a hospital last night. Now I've known you a long time and I don't think you'd do that, but -"

"I most certainly would not, Andy Bellefleur," I chided. "If you're talking about my nephew Hunter -"

"The child isn't really your nephew though, is he Miss Stackhouse?" Sergeant Fortier asked, in an accent that was slow and drawled, even for the South.

"No, he's technically my second cousin," I admitted, "but his Mom was an only child and I didn't have a sister, so we were real close when we were growing up. I'm his only living relative on his Mom's side except my brother Jason, and Jason's not so great with kids, so I try to be there for him when he needs me. He doesn't understand second cousins yet, so he calls me his aunt."

"You're related to him?" the social worker asked, sounding surprised.

"Of course!" I exclaimed. "I wouldn't just take home a stranger's kid, even if a doctor asked me to. He's Hadley's son, Andy."

Andy was surprised as well, then. "Hadley had a son? I heard she was a _vampire_." His tone of voice made it clear what he thought of that.

I sighed loudly. "Hadley sure did live an interesting life, God rest her soul. She got married and had Hunter, but got divorced a while later. She was made into a vampire like you heard, and then another vampire killed her. It happened a year or so back."

"Sure is a pity," Andy commiserated. "She was real pretty, your cousin. Hadley was Sookie's first cousin," he explained to the others. "She and Sookie were like sisters when they were young. You weren't so close as teenagers though, were you?"

"No, when she got into drugs and boys we didn't have so much in common no more," I confirmed primly, crossing my arms over my chest.

"That's all very nice," Sergeant Fortier interrupted, not meaning it, "but you can't just take a child from the hospital without asking and -"

"That's not what happened," Quinn stopped him, his voice so cool it raised hairs on everyone's arms - including mine. "If you're going to come here making accusations, you should check whether there's any substance to them first. Dr. Patel sent him here because he was too scared to sleep in the hospital, and he needed rest for his arm to start healing. Sookie's his family and the doctor knows her, so he entrusted Hunter to our care for the night. Would you rather the kid had a sleepless night in a place that terrifies him?"

"He's the child you asked me about," Andy muttered, finally putting all the pieces together. I 'heard' that he'd been asked along simply because it was protocol, this being his Parish, but the other officer hadn't told him what was going on, so he was figuring it out at the same time I was.

I nodded.

"Sookie told me about Hunter's situation weeks ago," Andy told the out-of-towners. "Didn't tell me his name, but she asked my advice. I told her to take him to hospital each time his Dad hurt him, so your office would get called in to help him."

"You're the mystery woman who's been taking him to hospital?" the woman asked, surprised again. "You look nothing like her."

"I disguised myself as well as I could," I explained. "Wore a wig, glasses, different clothes... I didn't want Hunter's Dad finding out I took his son to hospital each time I checked in and found him beat up. Last time I saw him, he threatened to shoot me." Sure, that was only last night, but they didn't need to know that. "I hear he's gonna be in jail for a while, so I don't have to worry about him coming after me now?"

They ignored my question, but I 'heard' from Sergeant Fortier that Remy would likely be going to a mental hospital, not jail. The police still figured someone who claimed his son's arm turned into a tiger's paw was probably hallucinating, which was good for us.

"Red Ditch is over an hour's drive away," the women marveled. "How often do you check on him?"

"As often as I can. I'm all he's got, on his Mom's side. If I don't take care of him... well, y'all know what's been happening to him."

The social worker was starting to warm to Quinn and I, but Sergeant Fortier just tried to steer us back to the task at hand.

"If you have the child here, we'll just be takin' him back to Red Ditch and Angela can decide who's best to care for him now. Where is he?"

"He's in the kitchen," I told him, "but he's still eating his -"

As soon as I said it, the Sergeant started walking towards the hallway, not sure where the kitchen was but determined to find Hunter as quickly as possible, so he could drive back to Red Ditch and get some 'real' police work done instead. (And then knock off early to go hunting.)

In an instant, Quinn was in the doorway, blocking his path.

"I know I can't stop you dragging that poor kid back to the fuckers who broke his arm last night," my boyfriend growled, "but if you have any decency at all, let the child finish his damn breakfast before you go hauling him out of here."

He was giving the police officer a look that would make any sensible person run and hide, but the Sergeant stubbornly stood his ground.

"I wouldn't normally feed him this late," I babbled nervously. "I know you're supposed to keep kids on a regular schedule and all. But he only woke up an hour ago, less than that even, and he's got a broken arm and I thought he might need the rest to heal. That's what you're supposed to do, isn't it, Miss Barclay? You're with child protection, right? We're supposed to let him sleep more when he's sick or injured, I mean if he wants to sleep more, aren't we? That's what my Mom and Dad and then my Gran did when I was growing up and I always felt better after I had enough sleep... That is the right thing to do, isn't it?"

"It is," she confirmed, impressed by Quinn's protectiveness and my concern for taking good care of Hunter.

Quinn and Sergeant Fortier were still facing off in the doorway, glaring at one another, and Andy wasn't sure whose side to take.

"I'm just here to make sure the kid's OK," the officer insisted, which was a lie; he was here to take Hunter back to Red Ditch, no matter what.

"He's fine," Quinn replied tightly. "Sookie, why don't you take Ms. Barclay out back to see Hunter, so she can check for herself that he's OK. She's the one who's responsible for making sure he's looked after, right?"

Sergeant Fortier glared at Quinn as he took a few steps away from the door, but he was secretly glad for the excuse to back down. He had initially figured Quinn for the kind of brawling hick he could amply handle, but now... some sensible intuition told him not to get into a fight here. Something told him Quinn wasn't someone to mess with; that if you threatened anyone he cared about, you wouldn't walk away from it. I was glad he'd finally figured that out.

"The kitchen's right this way, Miss Barclay," I told the woman, starting towards the doorway as Quinn moved aside so we could walk through.

"Please, call me Angela," she replied, having warmed to Quinn and I enough to want to be on first-name terms.

I smiled nervously as I led her down the hall. "I only made him pancakes as a treat, I didn't have the right cereal for him 'cos I didn't expect him to be here today, but after what happened last night... I thought he deserved something nice."

We arrived in the kitchen then, and I 'heard' that she was impressed by what she saw. Hunter was still sitting at the table, his pancakes almost finished now. We had improvised a booster seat for him with a cushion from the living room, and I found some child-size cutlery in the store room under the house. He was neatly dressed, except for the maple syrup he'd managed to drip on his top as he ate. A coloring book and some pencils were on the table next to him - I used them to keep him quiet after he got tired of 'helping' me make pancakes - and the juicer on the bench told her we really had made him orange juice to go with his unhealthy breakfast. Apart from the plaster cast on his arm, which she knew wasn't our doing, he was the picture of a well-cared-for child, to her eyes.

"Hello, Hunter," she greeted him. "My name's Angela, and I came to make sure you're OK here with your Aunt Sookie."

"No, you didn't," he grumbled. "You came to take me away. I want to stay here."

She was surprised to hear that, but just figured he was perceptive. She'd seen a lot of kids who had to grow up fast to survive their home life, and immediately put Hunter in that category. "Well, if your Aunt's taking good care of you, and you want to spend time with her, I can make sure you still see her," she offered.

He understood what she was saying - that he'd be somewhere else most of the time - and just glared at her.

"Is there anything you need, Hunter?" she asked, trying a different approach. "Is there anything I can get for you?"

"No."

"Did you have a good sleep last night?"

"Yes."

"Your pancakes look yummy. Are they good?"

"Yes."

"How's your arm feeling this morning?"

"Fine. Aunt Sookie gave me medicine."

"Just Tylenol," I clarified. "Dr. Patel told me to give him Tylenol if it hurt and he seemed uncomfortable..."

She knew she wasn't getting anywhere with Hunter, so she turned to face me again.

"You're doing fine," she said warmly, impressed by the effort Quinn and I had made to care for the child.

"Thanks." I finally managed a genuine smile, tears in my eyes. "He's safe here. I promise you, he's safe here."

She nodded, knowing instinctively that what I said was true.

It was only then that I noticed her brain patterns weren't exactly like a regular human's; that she, too, was something out of the ordinary. Alone in a room with Hunter and I, something akin to 'spidey sense' was tingling in her brain, telling her we were all alike in some way.

_She's fae too_, Hunter told me silently. _Her grandma's a more-ee-ad. A really old one._

I didn't know what that was.

_A tree fairy. For mulberry trees._

"Hunter, will you be OK here for a few minutes more?" I asked, to fill the silence. "You've got your coloring book, do you want anything else?"

"Blocks," he told me, pointing across the room at the old toy chest Quinn had carried up from the store room. None of us had opened it yet, but Hunter projected an image to show me where the blocks were, and when I opened the trunk, he was right.

I put the bag of blocks on the table next to him and kissed him on the forehead. "Just yell if you need anything."

He ignored me, already pulling the blocks from their cloth bag as best he could with one hand.

"Where did he sleep last night?" Angela asked as we stepped back into the hallway.

"Just in here." I pushed open the door to the spare room. "I'm sorry it's so messy, he's only been up an hour and I haven't had time to help him make his bed yet. I know it's far too girly for him, if he's here much I'll paint some of the furniture, maybe even buy him some new stuff... it was my room when I was a kid, that's why it's so pink. John and I sleep just across there," I pointed at the door on the other side of the hall, "so he can call out to us if he needs anything at night. They're supposed to sleep alone by his age, aren't they?"

She nodded, smiling broadly at me. She was more than satisfied with what she saw; apparently to Child Protective Services, seeing that a child had a clean, fully-furnished room all to themselves - even a small, overly girly one like mine - looked like luxury. They saw children with so much less every day.

She was surprised to see a bag of his clothes and toys sitting on the floor, though. "Has he stayed here before?" she asked, wondering how we found time to drive to Red Ditch and back to get them in the twelve hours he'd been in our care.

"My boyfriend went for a drive this morning," I told her, mentally reaching out to be sure Quinn overheard what I said. He did.

It wasn't technically a lie: he did go for a drive that morning, to get a bag of oranges for juice for our breakfast. Well, and more condoms... we kept running out, for some reason. There was no need to drive to Red Ditch and back though; I just teleported over, packed the things Hunter needed and came right back. It took all of ten minutes. I wasn't a great liar though, so if we needed to concoct a story to keep them happy, I hoped Quinn would come up with something better than I could.

She sensed there was more to the story than I was telling, and gave me a curious look.

"He bought some oranges for juice for breakfast on the way back," I volunteered, hoping that would satisfy her, but she just kept looking at me expectantly. She was used to people telling her _everything_, and she knew I hadn't yet. "He had to get more condoms, too," I finally whispered, turning bright red.

She just nodded then, satisfied she had the whole story. The 'safe sex' part was actually a plus in her eyes; one more in a long list. She saw a child who was fed, clothed and housed to a far higher standard than most she visited, and that told her the information she'd been given about us simply wasn't correct. She could see that Hunter was relaxed and happy here, that we were doing our best to care for him, and that Quinn was extremely protective of him.

"You're doing fine, Miss Stackhouse," she reassured me.

"Sookie, please," I insisted. "I'm doing the best I can. I haven't cared for a child full-time before but I've babysat plenty, and John raised his sister after his Dad died and his Mom went to hospital, so he knows a lot more about caring for kids than I do. If there's anything we could do better though, we just want to make sure he's safe and happy and healthy, so please tell us if we're not doing something right."

"Sookie," she touched my arm gently to ease my nerves, "you have nothing to worry about. You and your boyfriend are doing well. If Hunter stays here we'll check in regularly to make sure he's OK, but from what I've just seen, I'm not worried about him. You both care about him a lot, I can see that."

"We just want him to be safe," I told her, tears springing to my eyes.

"That's what we all want."

It felt like we had reached an understanding, so she and I went back into the living room.

"He's fine," she announced as soon as we walked in, mostly directing the comment to Sergeant Fortier. "He's well rested, he's wearing clean clothes, they made him pancakes and fresh juice for breakfast as a treat, he's got a coloring book and a whole chest of toys to play with. He has a room to himself, and it's clean and well furnished. I don't think the information you were given is entirely accurate."

"Were you planning to have him stay here, Miss Stackhouse?" the Sergeant asked, wondering why we were so well equipped for a child.

"We knew it might come to that," I admitted, "what with his Dad's problems and all. There didn't seem to be anyone else helping him. But we didn't go buy anything, if that's what you mean. The toys and stuff belonged to my brother and I, mostly. They've been in the store room under the house so they're a little dusty, but they still work fine."

"Her boyfriend drove to Red Ditch and back this morning to make sure Hunter has clean clothes," Angela added.

Quinn just smiled and nodded, as though that story were true.

"This really isn't anything like the place they described," Sergeant Fortier conceded.

He was reasonably convinced this wasn't a house where a child was being abused, simply because it was spotless, had everything he thought a house ought to have, and all the repairs had been done. He didn't think Quinn and I looked like child abusers, either: we were both neatly groomed, and wore clothes that looked both new and reasonably expensive. I almost wanted to take him aside and lecture him about that, since I'd 'heard' about well-dressed people with neat houses hurting kids just as often as untidy people. I knew I couldn't, though; his prejudices were working in our favor, and for the sake of Hunter's safety, that was a good thing.

"Sookie's real good with children," Andy informed everyone, and I could feel James' influence in what he said. "She's been babysitting 'round here for years and everyone's kids have been fine. I'm sure her nephew's safe with her." James glamored him a few weeks ago, at my request, but added some extras of his own. I was grateful for that now.

"Neither of us would ever hurt Hunter," Quinn confirmed. "Anyone who says otherwise is lying to you."

Our three visitors exchanged a few glances then, considering the possibility they'd been misled.

"What exactly am I supposed to have done?" I asked nervously. "You said someone accused me of kidnapping Hunter?"

Sergeant Fortier was wavering on how much to tell us. If it was a police matter, he had to tell us exactly what allegations had been made, but also had to protect the identity of the people who made them, because they were potentially state witnesses. But if it was a family matter - and it was looking more and more like a family matter, to him - he knew it had more chance of being resolved peacefully if he told us which of our distant relations had sent him here, but kept exactly what they said about us to himself.

I gave him the slightest push in the direction of telling me who was making the claims, since I'd already 'heard' most of what he'd been told was happening here, and Angela's eyes snapped to mine - she felt the telepathic contact I'd just made with him, even though she wasn't sure quite what I'd done or how.

"The child's grandparents are making a fuss," Sergeant Fortier told me. "They said you kidnapped him, that he doesn't want to be here, that he's being neglected and possibly abused... I think they just want the child in their care, so they said what it took to get us out here."

"Remy's parents," I confirmed, and he nodded.

"NO!" Hunter yelled, wrapping himself around Quinn's leg. "Please don't send me to Grammy and Pops. Please."

None of us had heard him follow us up the hallway into the lounge room, not even Quinn, so we were all surprised to see him there. Quinn recovered first, scooping Hunter up and holding him to his side. I stepped a little closer, to rub Hunter's back.

"Why don't you want to go to your grandparents?" Quinn asked him. "You seem real scared, did something bad happen there?"

Hunter turned shy all of a sudden, burying his face against Quinn's chest as he nodded.

"Sweetie," I murmured in his ear, "you need to be brave and tell us what happened, OK?"

I could feel that his fear of his grandparents was genuine, but he was also playing out the reactions he knew would be most convincing to our visitors. He had seen all the different ways he might mention it, and he knew that the harder it seemed for him to tell anyone, the more likely they would be to believe him. So he kept thinking about what his grandparents would do if they heard him talking to us now, and trembled in genuine terror.

"It's OK," I added, still rubbing his back. "You're safe here. You can tell us why you're frightened, nobody will tell your grandparents what you said." I looked around the room and Angela nodded immediately, then eventually Sergeant Fortier did, too.

Hunter still wouldn't say anything, not sure how to explain why he was so frightened. He couldn't just say he'd seen his future with his grandparents and he was miserable; he knew that wouldn't make it possible for him to stay with us. Finally, he figured out how to handle this.

"I'll only tell you," he insisted, looking at Angela. "It's a secret."

She hesitated for a moment, then walked over and stood beside him, so he could whisper in her ear. He knew that Quinn would hear exactly what he said, and that I'd 'hear' it too, but he wasn't concerned about us knowing. We knew about his gifts and protected him.

"Pops is like Daddy," Hunter whispered in her ear. "Your work has a file. From when he was little. Stephanie knows about it."

Angela stared at him in shock, wondering how he knew any of that.

"Can you make a phone call and check your records?" Quinn suggested gently.

She nodded, told both police officers she had to call the office and went outside. They finally let me bring them some sweet tea, and we all waited tensely to find out whether Hunter would be dragged back to his grandparents, literally kicking and screaming.


	25. Parents

Hunter was right, as usual. When his own father was a child, Child Protective Services were suspicious of his parents, certain a child couldn't injure themselves that severely, that often, by accident. They could never prove anything, but they did keep records. Long, detailed records. One of the ladies in Angela Barclay's office had worked there enough years to remember the Savoy family, and had filled her in on all of it.

Andy Bellefleur and Sergeant Fortier, the two police officers who came with Angela to retrieve Hunter, were both more relaxed now. They had each finally taken a seat in my living room and accepted my offer of sweet tea, as we all waited for her to finish her phone call and come back inside.

"I'm sorry, Marc," she told the sergeant as she came back in and took a seat, "but I think the Savoys have wasted your time."

"Looks like," he agreed. "The paperwork's all in order. They've got discharge papers from the hospital, and a marriage certificate that says her first cousin was their son's wife when the kid was born. What did you find out on the phone?"

"Hunter told me his grandfather has the same problems his father does and I wondered if anyone in my office might remember them... turns out, they do. After hearing everything I just did from one of my colleagues, there's no way I'll put any child in the Savoys' care if I can help it." She looked grimly determined.

The Sergeant just nodded. "The kid does seem happy here," he conceded. "A lot happier than he was last night with his father."

"I can stay with Aunt Sookie?" Hunter asked hopefully, nestled between Quinn and I on the couch.

"Well, I need to talk to y'all some more first," she told him, "but I won't send you to stay with your grandparents."

Hunter grinned and hugged me tightly, pleased that he wasn't being taken away. I 'heard' that he was pleased with himself about that; it wasn't luck that the only part-fae social worker in the state was sent to check on him. Hunter had chosen last night to shift for the first time knowing which social worker would be sent to see him today, after his grandparents accused us of kidnapping him. It made my head spin, that he had seen all this days ago and timed his actions so carefully to get the outcome he needed.

_It's not hard_, he reassured me, eavesdropping on my thoughts once more. _There aren't many futures that could happen._

"Then there's only the matter of the trust fund," Angela prompted, wanting to clear up the last of the allegations against us.

"Is that what this is about?" Quinn asked. "They want Hunter's money?"

She gave a tiny nod to tell us she thought that was the real reason for all the fuss.

"They can have it," I shrugged. "I've got enough to take care of him without it."

"It's two thousand dollars a month," Sergeant Fortier interjected. "Twenty-four thousand a year. That's a lotta money to just give away."

We all knew it was more than a lot of people earned working full-time, out here in rural Louisiana. Some worked two jobs to make that much.

"Sookie's share of the trust fund a lot bigger than Hunter's," Quinn told him, "because she's got this place to care for. Plus the work she does now pays pretty well, and I promised I'd help her care for Hunter, so if they're ever short of money..." he stopped then, knowing how offended I got when anyone suggested I needed help. "I doubt it'll come to that, though. Sookie's real resourceful," he back-tracked quickly.

"If that's what it takes for them to let him stay here," I decided, "you can tell them I'll sign the money over. Until Hunter's old enough to collect it himself, anyway."

"It's noble of you to offer, but I think that'll be up to the trustees," Angela informed us.

"She is the trustee," Quinn smiled, "she and her lawyer."

The implication was clear to everyone there: if I wanted Hunter's money, there were easier ways I could take it. I didn't have to have him here to get my hands on it, and I certainly didn't have to make him pancakes and orange juice, or find him toys to play with, or drive to Red Ditch to get him clean clothes, or change the furnishings in his room to make him feel more at home. Seeing our willingness to give up the money convinced our visitors that Quinn and I were genuine, that we were both motivated by care and concern for Hunter, not greed.

None of them would say the same of Hunter's grandparent's, now.

"Look, I really don't want to waste any more of your time," Angela told the two police officers. "If they have papers that show the doctor sent Hunter home with them last night, this clearly isn't a kidnapping. Hunter doesn't exactly seem scared of his Aunt or her boyfriend, and I don't see any signs that he's been harmed while he's here, so I don't believe he's in danger. This -"

"They said _WE_ were hurting him?" Quinn snorted. "Gee, projecting much?"

She actually smiled at that. "Yes, I was wondering the same thing," she admitted, then continued her previous thought. "This really seems to be a family argument over money, not a criminal matter." It wasn't the first time a family had dragged the police and Child Protective Services into things like this.

"So you don't need us here," Sergeant Fortier interrupted, glad to be able to leave soon.

"No, I really don't think I'm in any danger," she confirmed.

"You're not," Quinn assured her. "I don't know what the Savoys said about us, but I'm sure y'all checked us out before you came here, so you know neither of us have a criminal record. And you have my word that you won't come to any harm here, no matter what you decide."

The two officers were satisfied with that, so they said their goodbyes and left.

"I'm glad they're gone," Hunter grumbled, as soon as both police cars had pulled out of my drive. "I'm sick of acting normal."

Angela's eyes snapped to my nephew, who was still sitting between Quinn and I on the couch.

"Hunter!" I exclaimed, wondering what he was up to.

She was about to ask him what he meant by that, but he spoke first.

"He is," my nephew told her cryptically. "Just not with Liz. With her sister, Sue. Check his text messages tomorrow morning. Before he wakes up."

A tangle of thoughts swirled around her head. _Of course. _How similar the two looked. _That's who I saw._ That she should've guessed. Then she burst into tears.

"How did you know?" she cried, staring at him. "Marc couldn't find any proof... they all think I'm crazy."

I figured that if Hunter had decided he could trust her with his secret, then maybe I should too. He had managed to seem normal while the police officers were here, and clearly hadn't done anything to arouse their suspicions the night before, either. He was developing a sense of who should know about his gifts and who shouldn't, and in a situation like this where I was completely out of my depth, I decided to trust him. He 'heard' all of that and was pleased; he considered it his job to be our guide, whenever there was trouble.

"Hunter's special," I said simply. "Just like everyone else here. And Marc doesn't think you're crazy. He's concerned about you, is all. Well, and he has quite a crush on you, but you didn't hear that from me."

Angela stared at me in shock.

"You're like us, aren't you?" I prompted. "You feel it that you're among your own kind? You and Hunter and I all have a fairy ancestor... we're all part fae. That's what that buzzing in the back of your mind is. I get it around my cousins, too."

"My grandma," she gasped, stunned. "We always thought she was crazy, saying she's a fairy... she's not, is she?"

I shook my head.

"That's why trees talk to me?"

I nodded. I 'heard' that she didn't usually admit that; she was terrified that if anyone found out, she'd be carted away to the nearest psychiatric hospital. But she was also relieved to be around someone who understood her gifts - a sentiment I well understood.

"She's part dryad?" Quinn asked, sniffing the air. "That's why she smells like a mulberry tree."

"Yes!" she exclaimed. "My Gran lives in a grove of them... she won't leave, insists it'll kill her if we move her."

"It will," Hunter confirmed. "After a while. Specially when someone chops the trees down... She'll look old and then she'll die."

"Oh," Angela said. "Oh... my Mom's so sure she's doing the right thing, getting Gran into a home... thank you, I'll stop them moving her. And thank you for telling me about Steve. I didn't want it to be true, but it's good that I know." She was dabbing her eyes now, determined not to cry any more over her, quote, _lying, cheating scum bag bastard of a husband_.

It was odd; Quinn and I had both assumed she was single, and I suddenly wondered why we had. She wore both an engagement and wedding ring on her left hand, and she looked roughly my age, so she was certainly old enough to be married... but somehow, she gave off a 'single' vibe, despite the rings that said otherwise.

"I'm sorry, there's a lot of questions we need to get through," she apologized, pulling a clipboard from her bag.

"It's OK," I smiled.

I could 'hear' that she thought we were probably the only ones qualified to raise Hunter, since there weren't any fae foster parents she knew of - but she wouldn't be doing her job unless she asked all the usual questions. She had to be absolutely sure we'd make good foster parents, no matter how much she personally liked us.

"It's all boring now," Hunter complained. "I want my blocks."

"I'll go get them," Quinn offered, not bothering to move at human pace as he left the room.

"Darn, he's quick," Angela marveled. "He's part-fairy too?"

"No," I replied, not sure how much to reveal.

"I'm just a regular ol' weretiger," he filled in, returning with the bag of blocks for Hunter. "Nothing as rare as you-all are."

_Right_, I thought to myself, _being the only adult male weretiger in America doesn't make you rare at all._

My nephew slid off the couch, emptying his blocks all over the floor. His mind was full of cartoon castles he planned to construct with them.

"So, how long have y'all lived here?" Angela began the background questions she asked every family.

I 'heard' from Quinn that we should answer every question she asked, and give her plenty of information each time, so we would seem like we had nothing to hide. I wondered how he knew that for a split-second, but then realized: his sister. I decided to go with what he thought would work, since I sure didn't know.

"My family's lived here a hundred seventy years," I told her, "on the other side of the property to begin with, but right in this spot for the last hundred-sixty. Although the house is only a hundred fifty years old. There was a hut, before that. I've only lived here since I was seven, but I've been in Bon Temps all my life."

"Detective Bellefleur said you've got a lot of land here?"

"Well, it only extends up to the road, that-a way," I gestured to the front of the house, "and to the cemetery that side," I gestured again, "but it extends a few miles, the other two sides. Although it's not really a rectangle... it's kind of seven-sided and wonky."

"And you own it now?"

"Yes," I confirmed. "My brother got my Mom and Dad's house in town, and I have the place here."

She was pleased to hear all that: she was 98% sure I wouldn't move around all the time, which earned us one point in the 'stable home' score.

"And are you local?" she asked Quinn, assuming he lived here with me.

"No, I'm from all over," he told her. "I have a house in Memphis, but my work takes me all around the South, and sometimes other places too. We met in Shreveport, at an event I ran there. I'm cutting down on my travel now, so I can spend more time here with Sookie."

"What line of work are you in?"

"Event management. I'm with Extreme(ly Elegant) Events."

"Oh." She was impressed; she'd actually heard of the company, and she knew they were huge. "What do you do there?"

"I'm a partner in the Special Events division."

"Oh," she repeated. She was doubly impressed, knowing that meant he was a part-owner of the firm. "Have you had the job long?"

"I made partner ten years ago, about a year after I joined the company."

"That's very impressive," she told him. "You must be really good at what you do."

He just shrugged. "I've worked hard and had a few lucky breaks."

"And you, Sookie? What sort of work do you do?"

"I'm just changing jobs at the moment," I admitted, not sure how to explain. "I worked up the road at Merlotte's for years. I don't do anything important like his job, I just wait tables."

Quinn snorted. "She's been assistant manager there for years. Her boss was too cheap to give her a promotion, but any time he was away, she was in charge."

"Uh-huh." She scribbled for a few seconds on her clipboard. "Do you know what you'll be doing next?"

"In your report, you can say she's a consultant, helping bar and nightclub owners sort out staffing issues," he told her. "If anyone bothers to follow up, that'll check out."

_I'll get your cover story organized as soon as she's gone_, he added. _Sorry, I didn't know you'd need one so soon. _

I just stared at him, not sure how to respond to that. Did I even need a cover story? I quickly realized that I did; I couldn't tell humans I was a telepath-for-hire, and I'd have to have some explanation for how I earned money...

"What do you really do?" she asked curiously, interrupting my thoughts.

"This is off-the-record, OK?" I checked. "Like trees talking to you..."

She nodded immediately.

"I'm a telepath. I've been doing readings for people for years, usually for free before, but I've just started offering my services at events and stuff."

"You can read my thoughts?" she asked, not entirely sure she believed me.

"We both can." I ruffled Hunter's hair as he built a tower of blocks around my feet.

Her eyes widened for a moment, but then she just nodded and moved onto the next question. She'd seen that Hunter knew way more about her than he should, and figured if he was telepathic, it wasn't so far fetched that I was, too.

"I won't be out at work every day," I assured her, catching in Quinn's thoughts that I should say something like that. "I'll be here to look after Hunter most days."

We'd just earned one more point on the 'are they fit foster parents?' scale, because between my trust fund and Quinn's high-paying job, she knew I didn't have to work any more than I wanted. The Department still really liked stay-at-home Moms as foster parents, though working a little was seen as a plus too, these days: setting a good example by having a job, was how they saw it.

It was going well so far, but we still had about a hundred questions to answer - and the wrong answer to any one of them could get Hunter taken away from us.


	26. Questions

_Author's note: Apologies for the delay in updating, have been sick :(_

_

* * *

_"What sort of education have y'all had?" asked Angela Barclay, the Child Protective Services case worker who'd come from Natchitoches to interview Quinn and I.

We were going through an interrogation of sorts, to find out what sort of foster parents we'd be for Hunter. She knew that like her, Hunter and I were both part-fae, so I was by far the best-qualified person to care for him. But she still needed all the paperwork to be in order before she could formally assign him to our care - and that meant we had to give good answers to every question she asked us.

Hunter sat on the living room floor between us, building castles with his blocks and knocking them down with his toy fire truck, utterly unconcerned by the interview going on around him. He'd already 'seen' it work out fine, so he knew that as long as we kept answering conscientiously, there was nothing to worry about.

Quinn and I were still worried, regardless. One wrong answer, and he might not live with us after all.

So far, we'd answered questions about my house, our jobs, our mental and physical health (both fine), whether we drank (a little) or smoked (no), whether we used other drugs (no, although Quinn dobbed me in for my "raging caffeine addiction"), whether we were happy as children (yes), and what we'd do in half a dozen different scenarios, all involving Hunter misbehaving, getting in trouble or being in danger.

It was a weird experience, having a complete stranger come into my home to ask my boyfriend and I all sorts of questions about our personal life, some of which we hadn't even discussed with each other yet. Angela had a 'you can tell me anything' interview manner that encouraged people to open up to her, and I could 'hear' that she genuinely wanted to help... but it wasn't normal for either of us to tell anyone so much about ourselves so quickly, which made us both uncomfortable.

"I finished high school," I answered meekly, a little ashamed by my lack of education. It didn't make me sound like a good 'foster Mom' for Hunter; I knew that. "I got good grades, but I haven't done much since then..."

"She's kind of self-educated," Quinn filled in. "She's not good in classrooms, hearing everyone's thoughts and all, but she reads a lot."

"And you?" she asked, inquiring about his education.

"Yeah, I read a bit too," he grinned, deliberately misunderstanding her.

"Did you finish high school? Go to college?" she probed, not easily distracted from her questions.

"I did my GED. I had a lot of family stuff to deal with then, so I wasn't able to go to school each day. But I did OK. Went to Northwestern for a couple years, but someone I trusted found out I'm a weretiger and told a lot of people, so I had to leave." He sounded really disappointed.

I hadn't known that particular bit of his past, but I could feel that it still really stung. I made a mental note to ask him about it some time.

"Oh," she said again. "I'm so sorry. Sookie mentioned that your Dad died and your Mom's been in hospital..."

He sighed loudly. "Look, you're gonna find out about my family situation sooner or later, so I guess I'd better just tell you." He hated talking about it, but he knew that right now, he had to. "My Dad died when I was fourteen and my Mom didn't cope so well. She's been in mental institutions most of the time since then. My sister's seventeen now, and I've been her legal guardian since she was six. I'd like to tell you I've been an OK parent to her, but I'm not. She's been kicked out of six boarding schools so far, and she's working real hard on her seventh. I don't know if she'll go to college. She doesn't want to. Child Protective Services have been all over us for years and they say I'm doing fine because she's physically healthy... they say it's just that she went through too much before I got custody, and her counselors have all said that as well... but it took me a real long time to get my shit together enough to take care of her, and if I'd sorted things out sooner, got her out of there earlier..." he stopped talking then, too upset to say any more.

I rubbed my head against his shoulder, comforting him in tiger language because I knew it would work a lot better than words.

"You can't have been very old yourself, when you got custody of her?" Angela inquired.

"I was twenty-two."

"That's very young to be a foster parent," she told him, briefly slipping into government-eze.

"I'm not her foster parent, I'm her brother," he retorted, a note of anger in his voice.

She just nodded. "How did you cope with the responsibility?"

"Just made it up as I went along, really," he admitted. "Tried a bit of everything along the way. I was lucky I could afford a nanny for her, so she had someone there to care for her when I was away at work, and someone to tutor her when I brought her with me. The first couple of nannies I hired were useless, but the third was great, she had six kids and ten grand-kids of her own, so she knew what she was doing. Helped me figure out a lot of it. I mean, I always coped with the basics. Frannie always had food, and clothes, and somewhere safe to sleep each night, and we got her caught up on the school work she'd missed pretty quickly. Though that wasn't really my doing, she's smart enough that once she was actually being sent to school, she figured it out herself. But discipline, and setting boundaries... I'm not great at that stuff. Not with her, anyway. At work, with my employees, no problem," he smiled grimly.

"I sent her away to boarding school when she was thirteen," he added, "because I didn't know what else to do. I'm not sure that was the right decision. I thought she needed more structure and stability than I could give her, and I chose schools which were supposed to be great with that stuff, but it never worked out. I'm pretty sure there's something I was supposed to do differently that would've helped her turn out happier, or less angry, or something, but I don't know what it was."

"I'm sure you did your best," was all Angela said, not wanting to dredge any more of it up for him. She knew she'd be able to get detailed CPS records once she was back in her office, and figured that would be better than upsetting him any more now.

"It wasn't enough," he replied, certain he'd let his sister down.

"I'm sorry I have to ask this," she changed the subject, "but did you inherit any money from your father?"

"No, it all went to my Mom," he told her wearily. "The house was paid off, they had some savings, and the life insurance... it was supposed to provide for her for the rest of her life, and for me 'til I finished college, at least. But crazy people... it was all gone in barely five years, I don't know where. She still won't tell me what she spent it on. I didn't find out 'til after the banks sold the house... she'd taken out three different mortgages and never paid a cent off any of them. She and Frannie were on the streets before I heard about it. I've been trying to buy our house back ever since, but the people who bought it won't sell, no matter how much I offer them. All my Dad's stuff got auctioned, sold for almost nothing... she didn't even tell me it was happening. I was already earning enough to take care of it, if she'd just said something..." he suddenly knew he'd said far too much; that his mother's problems just weren't relevant.

"But you really just wanna know if I've got enough money to take care of Hunter, right? Well, I do." He said it with a finality that told everyone to drop the subject.

I realized then that Angela had a gift of persuasion, just like my brother did: except where Jason could seduce anyone, she could get them to tell her anything. She exerted a mental influence that was making Quinn open up about things he never talked to anyone about, ever. Interestingly, it didn't seem to effect me at all, just like my brother couldn't talk me into doing what he wanted, and vampires couldn't glamor me. I seem to have a natural resistance to outside influence. Maybe it's just because I've got 'outside influence' in my head all day, every day. Or at least, whenever I'm around humans.

"What about your family, Sookie?" she asked me.

I could feel the power that radiated from her now, but it bounced right off me, so I was able to keep giving brief answers.

"My Mom and Dad died in a car accident when I was seven. My brother and I were raised by my Gran after that."

"That's when you moved here?"

I just nodded.

"It must've been tough on her, raising you by herself?" She was asking about money, mostly.

"She was great with kids," I made sure to tell her first, "and we had a little oil money, so we were OK financially. It was only when it ran out that things got tough, but I was old enough to work by then, so we got by."

She nodded, pleased with my answer. "You got any other family?"

"No," I replied. "It's just my brother and I, now. My Gran died a couple years ago. My aunt and uncle, Hunter's grandparents, have been gone a long time, too."

"We have fairy family," my nephew interrupted. "Our grandpa Niall will be back soon. And our cousin."

"Well, yes, we do have some fairy kin," I admitted. "They're not around right now, though."

She just nodded. "And you?" she asked Quinn. She couldn't mention 'fairy kin' in her report, so she figured it was none of her business.

He just shook his head, not wanting to talk about it. I caught in his thoughts that, like many shifters, he had genetic relatives who weren't officially part of his family, but he didn't want to explain shifter breeding practices to an outsider. He'd tell me, his mate, but he didn't think it was any other fairy's business. For her purposes - working out what family support he would have in caring for Hunter - he had no-one but Frannie, and even she was doubtful, in his mind.

I expected that to be a huge black mark against us, not having any family around to help, but to my surprise, it wasn't. She had (accurately) guessed that I was in my late-twenties and Quinn his early thirties, and in her opinion, two grown adults were more than enough to care for one child, especially since we both had some experience with children. If my fae relatives helped out, that was just a bonus.

"Neither of you have been married or had kids before?"

We both shook our heads, and I could feel sadness and regret radiating off Quinn, so I held his hand.

Apparently, that also counted in our favor. She saw plenty of people who desperately wanted a family of their own because they never had any family support growing up, and a lot of them got married and had children far too young. She was impressed that we'd both had the sense to not do that; that we'd waited 'til we had our own lives sorted out before bringing children into them. She was confident we could support Hunter: between my trust fund and Quinn's highly-paid job, she was sure we had more than enough money.

"And you've been together for a while?"

"Over a year, off and on," Quinn answered quickly, making sure she got the most favorable take on our relationship. "My work and family commitments made things difficult for a while... I had to work out my priorities before we could really be together. Just seeing each other now and then when I had free time didn't work so well for either of us."

I noticed that he'd carefully left out the trouble he'd been in, my relationship with Eric, even the fact that we split up for a while. Technically, every word he said was true - but it also gave a picture of things that wasn't wholly accurate. I wasn't entirely comfortable with that.

_Sorry_, he silently told me, _we need to make our relationship sound as stable as possible, so she'll leave Hunter with you... I won't tell any outright lies, but we have to be careful how we spin this._

"Have you dealt with that now?" she questioned him pointedly, wondering if he really meant to be around to help care for Hunter.

"Yes," he assured her. "My business partners know I won't be traveling nearly as much as I used to. I've trained my staff to take over all the routine events, so I only have to go to the really big ones. And Sookie can always come with me to those, if she wants, and Hunter's welcome to come along too. I know it's not ideal to pull him out of school for a week here and there, but he'd get to see a lot of the country, and probably learn more than he would in a classroom. My Dad used to take me on business trips occasionally, and it didn't harm me any."

"What did your Dad do?"

"He was an academic. Did animal behavior studies, mostly on big cats," he grinned, both at the apt choice of career, and the memory of his father.

I hadn't known anything about his Dad before, and I was surprised. Shifters usually did jobs where their physical strength was an advantage: the building trade was especially popular, with security work a close second, and mechanical repairs third. (Being strong enough to lift one end of a car really helped, or so Trey once said.) Many also served in the armed forces; so many that I strongly suspected the government had a secret shifter super-soldier program operating somewhere, just like they did in the movies. For a shifter to do such an intellectual job was unusual, though.

Angela was now really impressed. Between the large property my family owned, the length of time we'd owned it, the big trust fund, and the mention of 'oil money', she figured the Stackhouses were a lot better off than we looked. She knew the people with the flashiest houses and cars often had huge debts and lived a paycheck away from losing it all, whereas many of the millionaires she'd encountered (she had the liberty of asking all about a family's finances, in her job) were almost miserly in their spending; they had money because they saved money. She now put my family in that category, figuring that must be how we did things.

Hearing about Quinn's job told her he also had money, and that he was the son of an academic... she was sure any child raised by him would have plenty of educational opportunities, which she thought was just as important as food, clothing, shelter and safety. She believed that any child's long-term removal from the welfare system depended on them getting a good education, so they could learn the skills to make a good living for themselves, and the coping mechanisms to do a better job of raising their children than their own dysfunctional parents had done. I knew plenty of college graduates with none of that, but thought it best not to correct her on it.

When she added up all that she'd heard so far, we were now practically 'ideal parents' in her eyes.

"And you're happy together?"

"Very," I smiled, squeezing Quinn's hand.

He kissed me on the forehead, pleased to hear me say it.

"You haven't had any major problems?"

Quinn just sighed again. "Look, like I said... the amount of travel I used to do, it was too much. Especially with my family commitments as well. But since I sorted things out so I could be with Sookie, things have been great. Better than great. Amazing," he was grinning broadly.

I just nodded in agreement, figuring it was as good an explanation as any.

"Do you fight very often?"

"Twice in the whole time we've been together," I told her, figuring only the big bust-ups had to count.

"What were those fights about?"

"The amount of time I spent away from her," he admitted.

"How did you handle those fights?"

"She banished me to sort out my issues," he groused. "I didn't think it was fair at the time, but it was the right thing to do. I had to be apart from her a while to realize the way I used to do things wasn't working for me any more, that meeting her had changed my priorities... once I had the time to work that out, I was able to make space in my life for her, and we've been fine ever since. We don't agree on everything, but we talk about stuff and it just seems to work out," he shrugged.

"What sort of things do you disagree about?"

"I guess you could put it down in your report as 'different upbringings'... growing up in different households with really different parenting styles. But off the record, shifter customs are pretty different to human customs, so we have different assumptions about a lot of things."

"But he's real respectful of my feelings, and I try to understand where he's coming from," I added. "We just try to be honest with each other about everything, and it works fine. I think that's all you can do, when you're with someone from a totally different background."

I figured I'd better give her a decent explanation, before her 'gift' got him talking about all sorts of private things I didn't want her knowing.

She just nodded, thinking how mature and sensible we both sounded.

"When you talk about different backgrounds," she asked next, switching to a slightly different topics, "were either of you abused as children?"

"Me, not at all," Quinn told her firmly. "My Mom always had some problems, but as long as my Dad was around, she coped OK. I know you'll read all about the stuff she did to my sister when you get our file, but she never did any of that to me."

"What happened to your sister?"

"Look, you'll read all this in the file anyway, so I guess I have to tell you... my Dad isn't my sister's father. After Dad died, my Mom was raped, and that's how Frannie was conceived. My Mom's always had... I guess 'mixed feelings' is how to describe it, towards her. I think if she'd had her head together enough to realize she was pregnant, she might not have had another kid. I mean, she and my Dad had been trying for years, they always wanted more... and there are times when Mom's great, and really loves her and cares for her... but there are other times when Frannie just reminds her too much of what happened to her, and she's not exactly sensitive to my sister's feelings about that. When she's doing OK, she knows it's not right to take out what happened to her on Frannie, that it wasn't her fault... but she's nuts half the time, and then she says and does all sorts of things. I just make sure Frannie has one person who loves her unconditionally all the time, and let her know how much I always wanted a brother or sister, how thrilled I was when she was born... just so she feels like someone wants her to exist, y'know? I've been told that's all I can do."

It was the most I'd ever heard him say about his family, and I now understood why he wouldn't discuss it most of the time. He hated talking about it, as though saying it aloud made the pain of it all too real. But he knew it was better if the case worker heard it from him; that if she found it all out when she got his family's file, it would seem like he'd been evasive, which would be bad for us. He was willing to dredge it all up to help our chances of being Hunter's foster parents, and I felt so grateful for that, I wanted to kiss him.

"It sounds like a difficult situation." She summarized.

He just shrugged. "Only when I have to try and impose any sort of discipline. I'm her brother, not her parent, and she never lets me forget that. Plus the unconditional love part's more important, so she knows I still love her even when she's a pain in the ass, which makes it hard to get her to behave... but we do OK, mostly."

"It must put a lot of strain on your relationship."

"A little," he agreed. "I'm all Frannie has, and she's terrified of losing me, so she's not keen on me having a serious relationship. Never has been. But I'm slowly bringing her around to the idea that she could end up gaining a sister-in-law, not losing a brother."

She just nodded then, thinking it sounded like he was handling it all remarkably well.

"And you, Sookie?" she asked pointedly. "Did you suffer any kind of abuse as a child?"

I just stared at her for a moment, not knowing what to say.

"Sookie really doesn't like talking about this," Quinn told her gently, letting go of my hand so he could wrap his warm, strong arm around me.

_It's better if you tell her_, he encouraged silently. _It makes you more qualified to care for an abused child, if you've been through something similar and dealt with it OK._

_Have I dealt with it OK?_ I wondered, not intentionally projecting to him.

_You're doing great. You're psychological functional, and you have a normal, healthy sex life. You still have a few issues, but you're working through them... you're doing really well._

She was looking at me expectantly, and I finally decided to tell her.

"My great-uncle... my Gran's brother... he did some stuff to me when I was a kid," I confided shakily. "Touched me and stuff."

She simply nodded; it was a story she heard all too often. "Did you tell anyone? Did you get any help at the time?"

"I tried to tell my parents, but they didn't want to hear it... but after they died I told my Gran, and she made sure I never saw him again. Her own brother... she never spoke to him again, as long as she lived, because he did that to me."

Angela was impressed. She wished every parent whose child told them a relative was molesting them reacted that way. In her experience - admittedly skewed because of the nature of her work - most parents preferred to bury their head in the sand, to pretend it simply wasn't happening, that their child meant something else, that nobody close to them would do _that_. Just like my parents had.

"How does it effect you now?" she coaxed, needing to hear more about how I'd coped with what happened to me.

"Mostly, it doesn't," I told her firmly. "It was a long time ago. The last time it really upset me was when my stupid brother invited him to Gran's funeral, then basically told me I should be over it by now."

"So your relationship with your brother isn't great."

"He's a jackass," Quinn told her. "Can't see past the end of his own nose."

"That's my family you're insulting," I chided, elbowing him in the ribs as I did. "I don't say anything about your sister."

"OK, that's fair," he agreed. "I'll shut up about your brother."

"Good," I smiled tightly.

Angela just grinned at us, impressed we'd handled that so amicably. She saw many families where a single remark could lead to hours of yelling, and throwing things, and possibly violence...

"Not our way," I confirmed. "We're just not the stormy type, either of us. I'm pretty happy most of the time, and he sees the funny side of everything. Neither of us scream and yell much."

"No point getting bent out of shape about every little thing," Quinn shrugged.

She stared at me in shock, as it finally hit home that I really could read her mind. As so often happened, as soon as she realized I was listening to her thoughts, she immediately thought of every single thing she didn't want me to 'overhear'. In about two seconds, she let me in on every one of her biggest secrets, and for once, I made mental notes of all of them. On the off chance this didn't work out - that she tried to send Hunter to live with his grandparents after all, or worse, put him into state care - I had more than enough blackmail material to make her change her mind. It wasn't something I would usually contemplate, but if that was what it took to keep Hunter safe...

_She won't_, he silently told me. _She's already decided to let me stay here._

I couldn't help but smile a little. I was relieved I wouldn't have to use any of the things I'd just learned against her; partly because I liked her, and partly because I didn't think she'd really done anything wrong. About the 'worst' I caught in her thoughts was that, after really horrible days at work when she saw things that would haunt her for a long time, she smoked half a joint to help her sleep. It was far more effective for her than any of the sleep meds or tranquilizers she'd tried, and made it possible for her to keep doing a job that would drive her mad without some sort of respite. I couldn't really see anything wrong with that, even though I never took drugs myself. But if her home were ever raided by the police, she would lose her job for her 'drug use'. That actually made me kind of angry, since her actions would be completely legal if it were valium or something like that which helped her sleep. It wasn't like she was getting wasted, or even smoking it for fun...

She'd also made a mistake on her tax three or four years running and owed the IRS a couple thousand dollars, but didn't have the money to pay it, so she hadn't told them she'd claimed deductions incorrectly all that time. I didn't think she'd really done anything wrong there, either, since I knew how much of a pain it was to figure out taxes, and it truly was an honest mistake... but she'd still be in a lot of trouble if anyone found out about it. She could almost lose her job over that, too.

"Where do you see your relationship headed?" She blurted out a standard question she'd been trained to ask unmarried couples, to cover her sudden discomfort over being in a room with two telepaths.

"We haven't really talked about that yet," I admitted without thinking. "He doesn't even live here, officially... he's kind of a house guest still."

"Oh." Her tone of voice made it clear I'd said the wrong thing.

"I promised I'll help her care for Hunter, though," Quinn told her, "and I will."

I was wringing my hands now, wondering what to say. I wanted to blurt out that we were serious about each other, that he'd said he wanted me to be the mother of his children... I wanted to say something to convince her we would raise Hunter together as a couple, but I didn't know quite what to say. 'I bit his neck'? 'We're imprinting'? Neither of those sounded all that convincing, in the human world.

"Do you live here alone?" she asked me, going back to re-check all her assumptions about Quinn and I.

"No, I've got a roommate," I admitted. "She lives upstairs, I'm downstairs."

"Uh-huh." She wasn't sure how she could justify sending a child to live in a share house with two single women, and I could feel this starting to go against us. "Where is your roommate right now?"

"She's gone away for a couple days with her boyfriend." I knew it sounded bad, but I didn't want to lie.

She just nodded tersely. "How long have they been together?"

"A few weeks." I could barely have said something worse if I tried.

"Amelia's house in New Orleans was badly damaged in Katrina," Quinn interrupted, trying to head off disaster for all three of us. "Another lady lived here for a while afterward, too, but she's with her daughter and her grand-kids now. Amelia's just taking a bit longer to get it all sorted out." He was actually contemplating telling her who Amelia's father was, on the off chance it helped us.

_Sorry, I'm not trying to kick your friend out_, he silently apologized. _But this sounds so bad for us..._

I knew that. I could feel it. I was wondering what to say next, what could possibly make this better for us, what could make it clear that we really were a committed couple, that we genuinely wanted to raise Hunter together, that we were stable and responsible and would do our best to care for him...

"I know we haven't been together quite as long as you'd ideally want," Quinn told her, deciding to just address this head-on, "but we'll both be here to care for Hunter. If you need some proof of that... would it make a difference if we got married?"

He caught me completely by surprise - an unusual experience, being telepathic and all - and I just stared at him for a long moment, my mouth hanging open.


	27. Family

"I don't think that's a decision you should make just for Hunter's sake," Angela Barclay told Quinn and I firmly.

She sat in my living room interrogating us both while Hunter played with his toys on the floor obliviously. She was trying to figure out whether we'd be good foster parents for him, and it had been going well for us... right up to the point when she figured out that this wasn't a family farmhouse with a young couple living in it, but instead a share house inhabited by two single young women with unstable love lives.

It didn't matter how much she liked us; it didn't matter that she was part-fae, just like Hunter and I; it didn't even matter that she knew we were both telepathic, so I was instantly more qualified to care for him than anyone else. She couldn't go back to her colleagues at Child Protective Services and recommend placing a child with two young single women and whatever boyfriends they had around that week.

Quinn had tried to swing it back in our favor by pointing out that Amelia's technically a Katrina refugee, but it hadn't helped us much... so he asked if marrying me would help.

My mind was still reeling. He wanted to marry me? I'd caught an idle thought or two before... but he said it aloud! To a government official! _He wants to marry me!_ I had given up on this ever happening to me, and now he was saying... _Wow_, I thought, completely flabbergasted. I had always wanted a husband, kids, grand-kids, the whole deal, but thought I couldn't have that on account of my disability... but Quinn, I could marry. He was alive, and I could hear his thoughts most of the time, but it didn't freak him out, and we could still make love even. I loved him, and he loved me, and we wanted the same things in life, and we got along real well... and he was so darn hot and the sex was incredible... OK, if he was gonna ask me, I was gonna say yes. Yes yes yes yes yes.

"It's not like that," he assured her. "By the customs of fairies and shifters, we already are. It's only by human standards we're not yet."

"What does that mean? Fairies and shifters marry differently?" she asked.

"Yeah," he explained. "Shifters have fated mates, one person in the world who's perfectly compatible with us. We mate for life, and imprint to one another so strongly that if we're widowed, it's usually only people who look and sound and smell like our mate we can re-mate with... close relatives of our mate, mostly. Shifters don't divorce at all, and fairies... well, once they claim someone, it's permanent. Shifters mate for life, but fairies... the books imply that it goes beyond that, but they aren't exactly specific about it."

"So, what, you've had a ceremony or something?" She was trying to work out what 'married by shifter and fairy standards' actually meant.

"Two ceremonies. One that was done the shifter way, except without all the witnesses and stuff because fairies are more private about it, and one that was done the fairy way. I'm marked as hers," he traced the scar on his neck. "We're bound to one another by fairy magic, and we've imprinted to each other the way animals do. We're both wired to stay together now, to want only each other... it's a lot more permanent than human marriage, what we've done."

She was thinking how nice that sounded, to know your partner couldn't cheat, or leave you... how much she wished her marriage was done that way.

"It's good it wasn't," Hunter told her. "He's not your mate. Your mate's in Chicago. You'll get offered a job there next year. Then you'll mate."

She stared at the child for a moment, watching him demolish a tower of blocks with his fire truck for the fifth time in a row, oblivious to the fact that he'd just told her what the future held. He'd mostly told her things that had already happened until then, and she was quickly realizing he was more than 'just' a telepath. But she couldn't put any of that in her report, so she had to concentrate on the matter at hand: Quinn's and my relationship, and our fitness as potential foster parents for Hunter.

"Being de facto won't be a strike against you any more," she told Quinn, as I half-listened, still thinking _weddingweddingwedding husbandhusbandhusband_. "To be very frank, a hasty wedding's more likely to ring alarm bells these days."

As my mind finally caught up, I suddenly worried whether this was even about me. Quinn really wanted kids because he's a shifter and apparently most shifters do, and here's a kid he likes who he can raise as his own, and all he has to do is marry me... I was just about to ask him whether this was really about wanting to be with me, not just about caring for Hunter, when my nephew answered my question first.

"It is," he told me, not bothering to look up from his toys. "He bought a ring ages ago. Before he met me."

"Gee, thanks Hunter," Quinn grumbled as he turned to me, looking like he'd just been caught doing something he shouldn't. "I wasn't going to ask right away, I know it's too soon, I just saw something that made me think of you, and I figured the right moment would come along sooner or later..." He looked nervous, sure I was going to freak out about him being too serious about me, too quickly. "It's a thing with my kind," he kept rambling, "we know our mate the first time we see or hear or smell them, the same way you hear what trees say and they both know everyone's thoughts," he told Angela, trying not to look at me out of the corner of his eye, sure I was horrified. "A year's a really long courtship for shifters... hellishly long... but the human part of me couldn't deal with marrying a woman I barely knew, and she's too smart to agree to it anyway, and I couldn't even admit the tiger part of me was right until I thought I'd lost her... I'm not very bright, sometimes."

"You really bought her an engagement ring?" Angela asked incredulously.

She thought it was an off-the-cuff idea, him asking whether getting married would improve my chances of being allowed to look after Hunter. If he'd been considering it for a long time, it was a completely different matter, in her eyes. A couple who are practically engaged were seen as much more stable foster parents than a couple in a newish relationship who didn't even live together yet. In fact, she thought 'engaged but not living together yet' would looked even better in her report than 'de facto', oddly enough.

He nodded. "I'll show you if you need me to prove it," he offered, not sure whether he was supposed to do that.

When she agreed, he was back in about two seconds, showing it to her as discretely as he could, to prove he was serious about this. He seemed really embarrassed about the whole thing, and I 'heard' that this wasn't how it was meant to happen; that he knew human custom dictated he think up something really creative and romantic when he asked me. And that he had to wait a LOT longer to do it. I also caught how foreign the whole concept was to him; that shifters would simply say to someone, 'I think you might be my mate', and the matter would be agreed or disagreed upon quickly; that it wasn't unusual for the mating ceremony to happen within a week of finding one another, if they met as adults - and in more traditional packs, it practically always happened within a month.

My brother's wedding suddenly didn't seem quite so hasty, after all.

I tried really hard not to 'hear' anything about the ring he'd just shown her, but I wasn't sure I didn't want to know, and I peeked for just a second, and there it was... a diamond the color of a pale new lemon, round and cut so it glowed softly instead of flashing like a neon sign, and big enough that she was seriously impressed. _That's no drugstore impulse buy_, I heard her think, comparing it to the many tacky pieces of tin she'd seen on pregnant fifteen-year-olds' hands to get their much-older boyfriends out of trouble. She mentally rattled off a whole string of jewelry-store lingo, none of which I understood, but I could tell she was impressed by it - especially because he'd dropped that much cash and still managed to get something both understated and personal. It was a piece that symbolized a very serious commitment, to her, something that proved he wanted to be with me for a very long time, far more than his words had convinced her.

"It just made me think of sunshine," he rationalized, snapping the box closed and hiding it in a pocket as quickly as he could. I could 'hear' that he felt like he'd just messed up, big time; that he expected me to lecture him about this the same way his sister had. "I guess you just saw it in her thoughts," he apologized to me, "and I know it's meant to be a surprise, and I just screwed it all up, and I'm really sorry. The human stuff... god, it almost makes me wanna do this the shifter way. The traditional way, I mean. Do human males actually get all this right? I have so much more respect for their intelligence now..." He just stood there looking at me, waiting for me to blow up at him.

Of course, I didn't.

I stood up and kissed him instead, pulling him down to my height a little more forcefully than I probably ought to, in polite company.

"If doing all this the human way is causing you headaches," I murmured into his mouth, "I'm sure we can work something out."

"I think I've invaded your privacy enough already," Angela apologized, getting up to leave. "I'm sorry I had to ask so many questions... y'all should've had the chance to figure this out in your own time..."

She felt really awkward now, since we'd basically forgotten she was in the room and were still kissing. Enthusiastically.

When a small block of wood bounced off Quinn's head, we finally separated. Hunter was glaring at us, because he'd been mentally shouting at me to stop for a few seconds already, but I'd been too preoccupied to listen.

_You'll mess it up_, he chastised me. _She'll think you get, um, carry way. And do stuff in front of me. Cos you forget I'm here._

I blushed bright red then, knowing full well it wouldn't have gone any further. Well, I was reasonably certain of that...

"Sorry," I apologized. "It's not every day a girl finds out the man she loves is gonna propose." I couldn't help beaming as I said it.

"So I didn't totally mess up?" Quinn asked.

"No, you really didn't," Angela answered for me. "And even if you had, a piece like that will earn you a lotta forgiveness."

"Dryads," Quinn chuckled, shaking his head. "It's all about the pretty rocks, isn't it?"

She just looked puzzled.

"Go talk to your Gran," Hunter offered. "She'll 'splain."

She nodded gratefully, realizing she was finally going to get some answers to all the questions she'd had, about why she was so different to most humans, why trees talked to her, why people would tell her anything she asked... she was thrilled to have met the three of us.

"Well, it's been real nice to meet y'all," she enthused. "I can tell that Hunter will be fine here, and the stuff you told me... I can put it all together in my report in a way that makes it clear you're good foster parent candidates, and that he doesn't have any other good family options right now. His Dad wants him to be here, rather than with his own parents, so that counts in your favor, too. Someone will come check on him from time to time - I'll try to do it myself, but they might assign someone local to you, as well - but for now, he's in your care."

Then she looked right at me, trying to focus her thoughts to make sure I heard them. She was trying to tell me I should adopt Hunter quickly; that Remy said he had no interest in caring for his son, and sounded like he would sign over custody willingly - especially if his parents got the money they wanted. Her instincts told her Hunter belonged with us, and his medical records told her he wasn't safe with his father, so he'd be far better off placed with people who didn't abuse children.

I nodded to tell her I'd heard, then said "thank you" softly.

Quinn gave me a questioning look, but I did a tiny head-shake so he let it go for the moment.

We said our goodbyes and Angela left, mentally writing her glowing assessment of us as potential foster parents as she drove away.

I could 'hear' that she genuinely believed we were Hunter's best option, and would do everything in her power - both supernatural and bureaucratic - to help him stay here. Like so many fae, she'd chosen a job that let her play fairy godmother sometimes, and she took those opportunities to change a child's life for the better very seriously. She delighted in placing a child with the perfect foster parents, and she believed Hunter had that with us. To be doubly sure, I took a quick peek in Hunter's mind and saw that she would indeed write a great report about us, which would convince her colleagues that my nephew should stay in our care.

As soon as she was out of sight, I turned around and kissed Quinn again. Hunter huffed and went back inside to play with his toys some more, so we could have a few minutes alone on the porch.

"You're not mad at me," he breathed, when I finally let up a little.

I shook my head. "Not hardly." I couldn't help but grin. "And you don't have to do anything elaborate, just wait for the right moment and ask."

"OK, I can do that."

"Any ideas for the rest of the day?" I pointedly changed the subject. "What time is it, anyway?"

He looked at the sky for a moment. "About two o'clock. Maybe quarter past."

"Wow, that was four hours of questions! No wonder I feel so beat."

"Take you out for lunch then?" he offered.

I agreed gratefully and we got on with our day, eating lunch together, then visiting the park so Hunter could play, shopping for groceries, cooking dinner... just like a normal couple and their kid. The comfortable, mundane happiness of it was bliss to me, and I hoped it would last.

But as always, come nightfall, there were vampires around to interrupt it.


	28. Away

One moment, I was standing in my kitchen, putting away the dinner dishes with Quinn and Hunter. The next, I was hurtling through my woods far faster than any human ever ought to move, terrified as tree after tree narrowly missed me. I tried to scream, but as soon as I opened my mouth, something hard and cold clamped over it, forcing it closed again. I couldn't work out what was happening at first, but after a couple of seconds, I realized someone was carrying me. Someone extremely fast-moving.

Then it was over, and I was standing in a clearing I recognized. It was on the far edge of my property, and I almost never came here, simply because it took almost two hours to walk here from my house.

I spun around, trying to figure out what was happening, and there was Eric, smirking at me.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I yelled at him, enraged that he would drag me out here at night.

"Good to see you too, lover," he purred, still looking very pleased with himself.

Before I had a chance to respond, I heard something huge come crashing through the trees, closing in at an alarming rate. Then, as an enormous, furious tiger burst out of the trees and hurtled towards us, Eric dragged _me_ in front of _him_ for protection.

_Oh, great_, I thought angrily, _you're immortal, and you're gonna throw ME to the tiger_.

A second later I realized why he did it: that scary, snarling beast was my boyfriend.

In theory, it was a good idea: Quinn would tear Eric to pieces in a second (or try, anyway) for dragging me out here, but as long as he knew it was me, he would never hurt me. The only problem was, I wasn't sure how much of him was still in there, in tiger form. His brain patterns were more animal than human, and even though I'd spent a lot more time with him in tiger form lately, I still wasn't certain he'd recognize me.

As Eric held onto my shoulders to keep me in front of him, tiger-Quinn roared at us both, showing teeth I never wanted to tangle with. I was afraid for a moment, but then I 'heard' what he was feeling: alarm. He was worried about me. I'd only been out of his sight a few seconds, but he thought Eric might've hurt me in that time.

"I'm OK, John," I reassured him quietly. "He didn't hurt me, just dragged me out here. I'm fine, really."

I shook Eric off and walked towards him then, and his roars quieted to low growls.

When I got close enough, he started sniffing me, checking me over to make sure I wasn't injured. I tangled my fingers in his fur as he did, scratching behind his ears to calm him. When he was sure I really wasn't hurt, he rubbed his face against me, scent-marking me as his again.

As he did, I noticed that he had a collar of torn fabric stretched tightly around his neck, which puzzled me for a moment. Then I recognized the color of it, and realized it was the t-shirt he'd been wearing that day. I looked him over, and saw that some of the remnants of his jeans and underwear were still tangled around his hind legs, too.

_So that's what happens if shifters don't get undressed before they change_, I thought to myself.

I clicked my fingers and all the ragged remnants were gone, so he was naked in all his tiger glory. He chuffed gratefully and finally looked up at me, his face just a little lower than mine.

I couldn't help but smile, because even though he had changed forms, it was my boyfriend's eyes I was looking into. Sure, they were a different color and a different shape... but the same person gazed out from behind them; a person I loved dearly, who loved me even more in return. I leaned down and kissed the tip of his nose, which made him purr.

He moved back just a little and then reared up above me, standing on his hind legs. He was even taller like this than he was in human form, which was saying something, but I wasn't alarmed. He wrapped his front paws around me, careful not to put too much weight on my shoulders, and licked my face for a few seconds. I couldn't help but laugh.

"You know, I like that a lot better when you're in human form," I teased, stroking the scar on his neck as I did.

His guess had been right: there wasn't fur there any more. Each tooth mark was a small hairless circle, and when his fur was smoothed down, you could see the faint outline of a fairy bite in it, where small clumps were missing.

Eric cleared his throat loudly then, reminding us both of his presence. Quinn started growling again immediately, but didn't yet move.

I pressed my hand against him, and tried 'talking' to him silently. _This will be a lot easier if you shift back now_, I insisted, closing my eyes so I didn't have to watch. I knew that the discomfort of shifting didn't bother him, that like most shifters, he had a high enough pain threshold to withstand the breaking bones, snapping ligaments, dislocating joints and tearing muscles that happened and healed along the way, without it even registering as pain... but I still hated watching it.

He started changing as soon as I asked, and after a few seconds of gloppy, popping sounds, I was being hugged by a man instead of a beast. From the corner of my eye, I could see Eric staring; literally sizing up his opponent as my boyfriend held me close.

"You sure you're OK?" Quinn murmured into my hair. "You don't smell hurt."

"I'm fine," I insisted, pulling back to look at him. "Confused about what I'm doing out here, but otherwise, A-OK."

"I must speak to you," Eric explained. "Both of you."

"Right," I snapped, spinning around to face him, "and you just forgot the telephone had been invented? Or how to knock on a door? Or that it's rude to drag someone from their home in the middle of the night? Or, you know, any time at all?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Your neighbor didn't hear either of you leave, I am sure of that. Your mutt managed to get out of the house quietly, despite his haste." There was almost a note of approval in his voice. "Bill will likely assume the few noises he heard were the two of you fucking, yet again." He sure didn't sound like he approved now. "I do not think he will investigate."

"Fine," I rolled my eyes, "you're the king of stealth. Now if you don't mind, I'm gonna go finish putting away the dishes, put my four year old nephew who's currently alone in my house to bed, watch the movie Quinn and I picked out, and then go to bed and sleep. Like a normal person. Go home, Eric."

He was in front of me an instant later, blocking my path as though he thought I was about to storm off. _Moron_, I thought to myself, _if I wanna go, I can still teleport away_. I snorted contemptuously.

"Lover, we must talk," he insisted.

Quinn interpreted Eric's proximity as a threat, snarling as his fangs and claws descended. I was scared a fight was about to break out, fearing what would happen to me if I was so close to them when it did. I backed away quickly, almost tripping on a fallen branch in my haste. As I did, a look of sorrow came over Eric's face. He took three large steps backwards, his hands raised in surrender, staring at me.

"I am sorry," he apologized stiffly, his eyes locked to mine. "I did not mean to frighten you." Then he took a deep, unnecessary breath. "I have wronged you," he admitted quietly. "I did you harm, last night. I should have listened to you. If I had..." He stopped speaking then, and even with the bond closed, even with his minimal vampire facial expressions, it was obvious he was upset.

"Yes, you should have," I agreed, "but I should've teleported away, or stuck you to the fence, or conjured up some silver chains. You don't deserve all of the blame, I should've done more to stop you." My voice was shaky by the time I finished talking.

"No!" He shook his head forcefully. "No! You will not have to stop me. I will never again ignore your refusals," he promised. " I will never again touch you without permission."

"And how exactly did she give you permission to drag her out here?" Quinn fumed.

Eric looked shocked. "I did not consider... She is in danger. I need to speak with both of you, and your neighbor cannot know I am here... this seemed like the only way. I was not bringing her here alone, I knew you would follow," he reassured Quinn.

_Typical Eric, _ I thought to myself,_ high-handed as ever_.

"Fine, I'm listening," I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest. I knew I should accept his apology and forgive him for what happened - that it was the only correct Christian way to handle this - but I wasn't ready yet. I was still angry, at myself as well as him.

Quinn came to stand next to me and wrapped me up in his big, warm arms, and I finally felt safe again. His claws and fangs had retracted, so he clearly wasn't in a fighting mood any more. That was good.

"We must not be overheard." Eric was gravely serious. "That is why I brought you here. Can you feel any minds nearby?"

I reached out momentarily, shuddering in horror when I felt who was nearest to us. "Oh, no," I cried.

"What's wrong?" Quinn asked.

"Hunter's trying to find us. He's lost out in the woods in the dark by himself." My voice trembled with worry.

_I'm not lost_, my nephew told me emphatically. _I'm going to the fairy meadow. Where you need to go. No-one can spy on you there._

"I'll go find him," Quinn offered.

"I'm not sure that's -"

_Send him_, Hunter interrupted me. _It's too far for me to walk. You can teleport there._

"OK, you go find him," I agreed. "I'll meet you at the fairy meadow, OK?"

"But lover, we must -" Eric began.

"We won't be overheard there," I told him. "If we do actually need to talk about something, that's the best place to do it. I'll see you there."

Quinn kissed my forehead and bounded out of the clearing as I spoke, shifting into his tiger form in mid-air as he went. I gaped for a second, amazed he could shift so quickly. I could feel that it took a lot out of him to do it (especially since he'd already done it once when he chased after me a few minutes earlier) but he thought Hunter might be in danger, so he was determined to get there as soon as he could.

"Are you sure that -" Eric started arguing.

I simply glared at him and teleported to the fairy meadow, certain that if he really wanted to talk to me, he'd follow.

* * *

For a few seconds, I was all alone in the still night air, the meadow illuminated by fireflies so I could see clearly. I'd never come here after dark before, and it was even more beautiful than it was in the daytime, if such a thing were possible.

A pretty patch of wild white lilies felt like it was calling to me, and I walked over to inspect it. The largest, loveliest bloom seemed to raise itself up in offering to me, so I picked it gently and tucked it behind my ear. I ran my fingers through the whole clump, and the plants appeared to sway towards me, as though they wanted to brush against my fingers. That made me giggle, and when I did, my laugh tinkled ever-so-slighty, almost as though I were a little closer to my true form here.

I felt a wave of awe, and when I turned to see where it came from, Eric was staring at me. He was doing nothing to disguise his facial expression, but I still couldn't read what it was; it seemed to be a mixture of many things. Awe, of course, and lust (when wasn't he feeling that?) but there was much more there now, too: the affection he usually only showed me when we had sex, mixed with something like realization, maybe shock, plus pinches of longing and sadness and desperation and perhaps even reverence.

I stared at him, trying to work out what I saw on his face, and he stared back, drinking me in.

When Quinn burst in with Hunter on his back a few moments later, I finally understood why Eric had been staring. Being in the meadow brought my fairy magic closer to the surface, and I was glowing softly. So was Hunter, although even less brightly than I was. It would barely have been detectable in daylight, but in the dark, we were like lanterns.

"Hi, King Eric," Hunter greeted him, but Eric paid him absolutely no attention, still staring at me.

When Quinn stopped to stare at me, too, I 'saw' what I looked like to him: by coincidence, the loose, gauzy white top I had thrown on that morning set off my lightly glowing skin and sparkly pale hair really well, making me look almost angelic. The flower in my hair only added to the effect, as did the fireflies buzzing all around me, and the pool of white lilies all around my feet. The whole scene looked like it belonged on a twee porcelain plate... even the tiny denim skirt that peeked out beneath my top didn't spoil the effect.

I giggled again and clicked my fingers, conjuring up a pair of costume wings that looked like they belonged on a pale, silvery butterfly. Quinn got the reference immediately and burst out laughing, setting Hunter on his feet so he could come over and hug me.

My joke didn't have the same effect on Eric, though: he just kept staring at me, his mouth hanging open.

"That is remarkably convincing," he mumbled. "I do not know how I missed it before."

"Missed what?" I asked, still in Quinn's arms.

"You are on the path," he marveled. "You are mostly human, and yet... You could pass for one already."

"An angel?" I sputtered. "How do you even know what they really look like? I'm pretty sure the pictures humans draw aren't so accurate."

The mix of smugness and lechery on his face told me that he knew exactly what angels looked like... knew what _all_ of them looked like. Ew.

"What did you want to talk about?" I brusquely changed the subject, snapping my fingers to rid myself of the silly wings.

I took Quinn's hand and walked a few steps toward Eric, so I wasn't standing in the patch of flowers any more. As soon as I stopped, Quinn wrapped his arms around me from behind and kissed the top of my head. He was still naked, of course - his clothes didn't survive his quick shift to tiger form when Eric snatched me from my kitchen - but, surprisingly, that didn't bother me. I'd seen his birthday suit plenty of times, and nobody else here was remotely bothered by nudity, so the situation just wasn't as awkward as it should've been.

A moment later, Hunter came to stand in front of me and lean on my legs, holding my hand. I ruffled his hair affectionately, enjoying the way the magic of the meadow made them both want to touch me all the time. I felt a sharp pang of jealousy from Eric, although the bond still seemed to be closed. Weird. I stared at him, waiting for an answer.

He seemed almost lost for words for a long moment, but when he finally spoke, he was back in Sheriff mode. "You must leave," he ordered.

"What?" I literally couldn't believe my ears... he wanted me to go away, now?

"Tomorrow, during the day, when all the vampires are asleep. You must go far away, and not come back. It must look like you ran away with the tiger, to stop me from separating you. I will say you are too far away for me to detect, and it would be best if that were true." He was deadly serious, that much I could tell.

"You want me to leave my home?" It was the only part my brain had processed.

"Yes."

"No!" I shot back. "I'm not going anywhere. You can't make me leave your Area, just because we split up. My family have lived here a hundred-seventy years! We've been here longer than you have! You can't just kick me out." I was close to tears at the thought of leaving.

Hunter tipped his head back and stared up at me. "He didn't tell you last night, did he?"

I just stared at him, wondering what he was talking about.

My nephew let go of my hand and walked towards Eric, stopping less than a yard away. "You're stupid," he said, crossing his arms.

"Hunter!" I exclaimed, quickly dragging him away from Eric before the vampire retaliated. "You apologize right this second. We don't say things like that to people, it's rude to even think it. Say sorry, right now."

"No," he refused, stubbornly setting his jaw. "I told him why he had to tell you, and he hasn't. I told him the future and he doesn't care."

I caught in Hunter's thoughts that after I left Remy's place the night before, Eric had stayed and made sure he wasn't alone. When the police and paramedics left him unattended, he'd told Eric what he is, and had given him a lot of advice - which Eric clearly wasn't taking.

I knelt down to explain to Hunter why it still wasn't OK to call someone stupid, just because they didn't do what you wanted.

Eric just ignored us. "Can you keep her safe?" he asked Quinn, instead. "Can you get her out of here and make sure nobody finds her?"

"No," Quinn admitted. "I can't."

I stared up at him in shock. "But you said..." my voice was small and shaky, like a frightened child's.

"What he's asking isn't possible," he explained. "Wherever we go, someone will notice us. If I know who I'm keeping you safe from, and what they want, I can make sure they don't find out where you are. But I can't take you somewhere _nobody_ will see us, because that place doesn't exist. Staying hidden... there's an art to it, and a big part is knowing who you're hiding from and where they're looking."

"Oh, so you want me to leave, too," I accused, standing up to confront him.

"No!" He was hurt I'd even think it. "I want to stay here with you and have a life of my own, at last. I'm the happiest I've ever been, and I sure as hell don't want to interrupt that on your ex-boyfriend's say-so. But you're in some kind of danger, we both know that. If we have to go have a vacation to keep you safe, then let's do it. It's not like we'll be leaving forever."

From the corner of my eye, I caught something flicker across Eric's face. "What, it is forever?" I asked, suddenly even more shocked.

Eric just nodded impassively.

"No!" I protested. "No, I won't go. You can't just order me to leave." I was almost crying, again.

"Actually," Quinn fumed, "he can."

The two men glared at one another, and I sank down to the ground next to Hunter, tears forming in my eyes.


	29. Understanding

"Is this about your comfort or her safety?" Quinn asked Eric, as they stared one another down.

The Sheriff snorted. "Well it's certainly not about my comfort, sending _my bonded _away with a filthy animal, so even I cannot find her."

Eric, Quinn, Hunter and I were all out in my fairy meadow that evening, having a conversation that threatened to turn violent at any second. Eric had just ordered me to leave my family home forever - and I had to go tomorrow. Neither Quinn nor I were happy about that.

"If this is about her safety, then you really need to start talking," Quinn insisted. "We both need to know what's going on, right now."

Eric crossed his arms over his chest. "You kept her safe for the last month," he sneered. "I fail to see why you suddenly have to know now."

"Because you're asking me to hide her!" Quinn snapped. "It's one thing to secure her house so it's hard for anyone to get to her here. Everyone knows where she is, so all I had to do was keep it looking like tomorrow would be a better day to come for her than today, and make sure that when 'tomorrow' comes, we're all ready for that. Hiding her is totally different!"

"Then I will find a better guard for her," Eric shrugged. "It is short notice, but I'm sure I can come up with someone suitable by tomorrow."

"Right," Quinn muttered darkly, "you let me stay here the last month because there's so many other people who could keep her safe."

"Stop it!" I screamed. "Stop it, both of you! I'm not going anywhere! I'm staying right here, and neither of you can make me leave."

I glared back and forth between them, challenging either of them to try.

"It's true," Quinn confirmed, smiling. "Neither of us are strong enough to make her leave any more, so I'll just have to keep protecting her here." He shrugged and came over to me, rubbing my back soothingly, trying to reassure me that he'd help me stay here.

"You might not be," Eric smirked, "but I am."

"No, you're not," Hunter corrected.

Eric stared at him in disbelief.

"It's a fairy meadow," he explained. "You can't make Aunt Sookie do anything here. Or me. Or Uncle John. Our magic's stronger here. Yours is different magic. It's weaker here. But you can't make her. Not even where you were before. I told you, you have to tell her."

"Tell me what, Hunter?" I asked gently. "What's he keeping from me?"

"He has to tell you," my nephew insisted. "He 'splains better than me."

"It's not that easy," Eric sighed, looking at us all like we were idiots for thinking he could just _tell us what the heck was going on_.

"You can trust them." Hunter walked over to him. "They won't tell on you. She still loves you. And he wants to keep her safe. More than anything else. If they know, she'll be safe. If they don't, he'll get her."

"Who'll get me?" I asked, annoyed that my eyes were filling with tears again. "Who wants to hurt me this time? I haven't done anything to anyone..."

Eric looked me in the eye for just a moment, and I could feel him probing our bond, looking for something. It took a few seconds to realize what: my feelings for him. He wanted to know if what Hunter told him was correct. I knew it wasn't, but I wasn't about to correct him. But whatever he found there, it reassured him enough that he decided to tell us.

"My King has plans for you," he said simply.

I literally blinked, and the whole scene in front of me changed. Eric was suddenly flat against the nearest tree, his feet far enough off the ground that it looked like he was standing on top of the long blades of grass that grew around the trunk. Quinn was holding him there. By his throat. Eric didn't seem remotely perturbed though; he just crossed his arms and rolled his eyes at the whole situation. Hunter had wisely decided to come stand beside me again, knowing he wasn't easily seen by himself.

"You fucking idiot," Quinn snarled, fury radiating off him. He was still naked, so I could see every single muscle in his body tensed for a fight.

Eric just snorted. "You are the one holding a vampire by the throat. We don't breath, moron."

"No, but if I break the right bones, you won't be able to lie for a day or two," he growled back.

"Stop it!" I yelled at them. "Put him down, John. Now."

He did it immediately - and, I realized a second later, involuntarily. He wasn't at all happy about that.

It was a real OSM, an _Oh shit!_ moment. _Oh no_, I thought. _No no no no no no no. I don't want this power over anyone. Shit! What do I do? Shit!_

I walked over to where they were both standing, still glaring at each other, and took Quinn's hand so I could 'speak' to him silently, gently dragging him away as I did.

_I'm really sorry_, I told him. _I didn't know I could do that. Am I supposed to be able to do that? Is it a mated shifter thing? Can you do that to me?_

He stared at me for a second, completely perplexed, then realized I really didn't know._ Does anyone ever tell you anything?_ he asked.

I shook my head. _Other than you..._

_OK, I guess we need to work out every other thing you should know but don't. _His thoughts gave the impression that was going to be a huge task. _What you just did... it's a fairy thing. I don't think fairies can do it to each other, not that they'd tell me if they could, but when fairies mate with any other species... their magic's stronger, so they can do shit like that._

_You knew I'd be able to do that?_ I silently screamed. _Why on earth did you agree to it? Why did you let me do this to you?_

He just kissed me on the forehead and chuckled. _No fairy would do that to their mate very often_, he explained._ Fairies crave adoration, they need it to live, or at least to power their magic or something. Y'all keep your mate loyal by making them so happy they'll do anything for you... as happy as you make me. Besides, all fairies seem to have some kind of empathic ability and- _

I snorted, thinking of my cousin Claude.

What he thought back wasn't all words, but I got the message clearly: he figured Claude probably found it painful being around humans and absorbing their bad feelings, so he chose to only interact with them in the setting where he gets the most adoration: showing off his body in a strip club. In his opinion, a lot of the most empathically sensitive people became really unpleasant individuals simply because it was such a strain for them to be around people at all, which just made me all the more incredible for being so nice.

That was why most fairies never used their power to command their mate: they could feel exactly how it made their mate feel when they did.

_You can command me if you want_, he concluded. _But I don't think you want. That's why I let you do this._

I nodded then, understanding. A man of his size and strength knew all about being able to force people to do things if he wanted to, but he rarely did - and he would only have to see their angry reaction, not hear what they thought of him, like I would.

"OK, so de Castro has plans for me," I got back to the topic at hand, just as Eric started getting suspicious. Talking silently was a lot quicker than speaking out loud, so the short conversation Quinn and I just had took well under thirty seconds, but it was still long enough for Eric to know _something_ was going on. "And you think my best way to thwart those plans is to run and hide. Why on earth was it so hard to tell me that?"

Eric looked at me as though I were an imbecile. I was clearly missing something that ought to be obvious.

"Because he just committed treason by telling you," Quinn explained. "If anyone ever found out... well, the penalties are pretty awful."

"Oh." It made sense then. "He's not supposed to go against what the King wants, even if it's bad for me."

Quinn nodded.

"Then why did you just attack him, when he's risking so much to warn me that I'm not safe here?"

"Because he went to so much effort to convince me de Castro _wasn't _a threat to you, that I've just spent a month making sure you're safe from anyone and everyone else who could possibly have a beef with you... everyone _except_ his King, basically. You'd be a helluva lot safer now if he hadn't gone to so much trouble to change my mind that the little creep is a danger to you."

Eric snorted. "What would you have done? Stormed into his castle and got yourself killed? She'd be so much safer then." His voice dripped contempt.

Quinn turned to glare at him. "Right, because I'm so stupid I'd take on his entire guard, on their own turf, and expect to win."

"What else could you do?" Eric taunted.

"A lot more than you can, clearly," Quinn shot back. "I spent three-and-a-half months in that monster's compound, with him threatening my family the whole time. I did develop a few resources in there."

"So some dopey shifter day guard will tell you what little they know," Eric rolled his eyes. "That won't help her."

I caught in Quinn's thoughts that he had something a lot better than a few gossipy guards; that if Eric hadn't sent him on a wild goose chase, he would know exactly what de Castro had planned for me, and might have already resolved this situation.

"What do you have in there?" I asked curiously. "How are you able to find out things that he can't?"

Quinn's eyes darted around for a few moments, as he debated whether to let Eric in on a secret he felt sure would get him into a lot of trouble, if he were ever found out. On the one hand, he didn't trust vampires at all, and trusted Eric even less than most, given his attitude towards me. On the other hand, he was sure de Castro would hurt me a great deal more than Eric would, and was reasonably certain the Viking was sincere in his desire to keep me from his King, if only so he could reclaim me at some point... and he wasn't sure he could keep me safe from, quote, _that sadistic little cretin _without Eric's help. That last fact was what made his mind up.

"OK, I'll show you what I've got," he decided, "because it'll be a helluva lot easier for you to keep her safe if I do. But if anyone finds out about this, you'll be in just as much trouble as I will," he threatened Eric. "No vamp will believe a moron like me did this by myself, and when they ask who was behind it, I'll tell them it was you."

"Fine, show me whatever this secret _resource _of yours is," Eric hurried him up.

"Will it -" Quinn started to ask a question.

"Yes," Hunter interrupted. "I can make it."

"OK, I'll be back in a minute," he kissed my forehead. "You'll be safe here?"

"Sure," I grinned ferally. "You don't wanna known what happens to anyone who tries to harm a fairy in a fairy meadow." Amelia had taught me how to invoke the meadow's protective magic a few days ago, so I knew that as long as Hunter and I were here, nobody could hurt us.

"Don't worry," he added for Eric's benefit. "I can get in and out without being seen."

Then Quinn was off, jogging towards my house to retrieve whatever it was he'd decided to show us, enjoying the chance to stretch his legs.

Eric and I just stared at each other across the clearing. I couldn't work out what to say or do now it was just him and I here with Hunter, and he didn't seem too certain about anything, either.

"She won't stop you," Hunter informed him, cryptic as ever.

Eric seemed to consider that for a moment, and then an instant later, he was right in front of me. I literally didn't see him move, he just appeared barely a yard away.

"Sookie," he murmured, as he slowly, tentatively, stepped closer and wrapped his arms around me. "I will miss you."

"So this is a goodbye hug?" I checked.

"I supposed it is," he sighed, pulling me tight to his side. "My obstinate, faithless, infuriating wife." The lingering, impassioned way he said it made it sound like a compliment. "Life will be so different without you... I will miss you, my lover."

He buried his nose in my hair and inhaled deeply, and just for a moment, I let myself relax. The gentle, undemanding way he held me was actually quite pleasant. Comforting even. I found myself leaning into him, letting him rock me a little, even as I hoped this wasn't really a farewell... because I didn't want to leave my home, of course.

For a moment, it felt exactly like the days just before he left, when he was sweet, and considerate, and for the very briefest time, all mine.

"Why are you like this, Eric?" I pondered aloud, my voice muffled against his chest. "So sweet some days, and so mean on others?"

"Why are you?" he replied gently, as he stroked up and down my back with the tips of his fingers.

It didn't feel like he wanted a reply; he was simply making the point that he found my behavior as inconsistent as I found his. I finally let my arms encircle him, almost by way of apology that I hurt and confused him, the same way he did me. He planted a goodbye kiss on top of my head in response, and rested his face against my hair.

Then I felt Quinn approaching and pulled away from Eric hastily, wondering what my boyfriend's big secret was.


	30. Babies

_Author's note: I stick to canon as closely as possible for back-story (except ignoring DITF because it came out after I started writing) but I couldn't find anything re how long Felipe had been King. For the purposes of this story, his reign began relatively recently; fifty years ago at most. If that's wrong, sorry, fellow canon nerds! ;)_

* * *

As Quinn burst into the fairy meadow, I 'heard' the guilty expression on my face register immediately.

_Can't leave you alone for a second, can I babe?_ he silently chuckled, certain that nothing had actually happened while he was away, since he'd only been gone a couple of minutes and Hunter was right there in the meadow with Eric and I the whole time.

_It's just a hug_, I told myself, _a goodbye hug. Between two people who aren't exactly friends, but sure have been through a lot together. It's OK to hug someone you might never see again._ I wasn't doing a very good job of convincing myself. Sure, it was just a hug... but it felt intimate somehow, emotionally intimate, and that made me feel even more guilty than the physical intimacy Eric and I had shared the night before.

_What are you feeling so guilty about this time?_ Quinn asked, taking my hand so I could silently answer. He sniffed me a little, realized some sort of physical contact had taken place, and then pulled me close so he could subtly rub against me to scent-mark me as his own again.

_Eric hugged me goodbye and I didn't stop him_, I babbled silently. _He held me for about 30 seconds and we talked a bit and he rubbed my back and kissed my hair and I'm really sorry, really really really sorry._

He actually laughed aloud at that; simply couldn't help himself. _You are allowed to hug people, _he told me silently. _As long as there's no groping or dry-humping going on, I really don't mind. And kissing your hair... well, as long as there was no tongue involved, I think we can still call it friendly. _

I started giggling too then, amused by the tongue comment.

"So what is this big secret?" Eric interrupted, little hints of fury playing all over his face as he watched Quinn replace his scent on me with his own.

I could feel something from him now, despite the bond being closed, and it completely perplexed me: his face said 'angry' but the vibe I was getting from him said 'hurt'. Really, terribly hurt. Heartbroken and devastated and hopeless and ashamed, all rolled into one. I figured it couldn't have been a very accurate read of his feelings, when they contradicted what I saw on his face so completely.

Quinn pulled his laptop out from under his arm and attached some little device to it. Hunter immediately walked over, touched the plastic thingummy for a second to give it some spark of magic it needed to work out here, and then Quinn started doing something on the computer.

A few moments later, security video was all over the screen, showing six different rooms in two neat little rows. Felipe de Castro was in one of those rooms. Quinn clicked on that one and it filled the screen, voices suddenly coming out of the laptop's speakers.

"And forasmuch as his nutritional and sexual needs may be less satisfactorily met in her absence," de Castro's voice proclaimed, speaking so quickly I could barely follow, "I will generously provide him a female Zurzub he is known to enjoy, for the duration of his bonded's visit with his King. Said Zurzub comes from my own personal collection, renowned for containing only the finest and rarest of bloods, and has market value far in excess of his mostly-human telepath. She is my gift to him for his exceptional service, in making such wonderful tribute to me. Next line."

He seemed to be dictating some kind of letter. He spoke into a tiny black box on his desk, which I guessed was a tape recorder. Or one of those newfangled devices that I heard had replaced tape recorders. They did exactly the same thing, but you never had to put a tape in them. (Not sure how that worked...)

"As per our agreement, he will receive one-tenth the fee for each one sold, in consideration of the expenses he incurred in securing the telepath as an asset for my Kingdom."

"That is Felipe's office," Eric marveled, pressing something on the computer so the speakers were suddenly quiet, although he kept watching the screen from the corner of his eye. "That is what he is doing right now?" he asked.

Quinn just nodded.

"You installed this in his palace?" Eric sounded almost dumb-founded.

Quinn burst out laughing. "Right, I sneaked all those cameras in and spent a few weeks chasing cables into walls, and not one of the security guards ever noticed," he shook his head. "The previous King put them in. Felipe left so few of his people alive, there wasn't anyone to tell him about it, and the system's so well hidden I don't think it's been found yet. All I added were transmitters."

I caught in his mind that he wasn't telling the whole story. He actually had to get everything hooked up to electricity again, without anyone detecting the power usage... or rather, _Frannie_ did. He had her do it because de Castro's guards thought her stupid and weak so they barely watched her, and she was never punished for 'getting lost' all over the palace (whereas Quinn was watched constantly and threatened for even the smallest infraction). She'd been able to wander everywhere, camera phone in hand, taking photos of anything that interested him, and the guards never caught on to what she was doing. Apparently she had enough tiger genes to be almost as stealthy as her brother. The hardest part for Quinn was sneaking in the parts they needed, when he was allowed out so few times and checked so carefully when he came back - and while that was difficult, it was nothing compared to sneaking into de Castro's bedroom in the daytime like his sister did.

"Who else knows about this?" Eric interrogated. "How long do you think it will be until he discovers it? Will he know it was you watching?" He seemed almost flustered.

Quinn just rolled his eyes. "Enough with the questions already. I know what I'm doing."

Eric was giving him a really weird look now, some peculiar mix of suspicion and newfound respect. "You do this often." It wasn't a question.

Quinn gave no answer to that. Not a look, not a gesture, not a word - nothing.

"He was talking about us, wasn't he?" I asked Eric. "And what's a Zurzub?"

"Vamp food," Quinn answered the second question bluntly. "People bred to be extra-super-tasty to the blood-suckers. Part-fae, of course."

"Ew," I screwed up my face. "And you've already 'enjoyed' it," I added tartly, glaring at my bonded. "Her."

"Yes, he was talking about you and I," Eric replied, ignoring my other question entirely. "That is why you must leave."

"Give me one good reason why I should?" I seethed with rage at the thought of de Castro sending Eric some specially bred vamp-food lady to meet his 'nutritional and sexual needs' while I was subjected to whatever the King had planned for me. For a moment, lightning crackled in my hand, but I was able to control it this time.

"Do you wish to have children, Sookie?" Eric asked, completely changing the subject.

"I don't see what that has to do with anything," I retorted, then waited for him to say something else.

He didn't. He just waited patiently, clearly not intending to say another word until I answered his question.

"Fine," I huffed. "Yes, I want kids. Why is this so important, all of a sudden?"

Eric looked genuinely shocked. "You wish to have children?"

"Yes," I snapped. "That's what I just said."

"Then why do you choose only men who cannot or will not have children with you?"

"Who says I won't?" Quinn interjected.

"She's not a weretiger. You cannot breed more of your kind with her." Eric spoke slowly and clearly, as though my boyfriend were a slow child.

"I don't care whether my kids can shift or not," he retorted angrily. "Children don't have to have some special ability to be worth having."

I gave him one of those gooey, 'I love you so darn much' smiles, and he grinned right back at me.

Eric looked even more stunned. "You wish him to impregnate you?" He shuddered in revulsion as he said it.

I sighed loudly. "We've only talked about it a little, and we don't have any immediate plans... but yeah, we wanna have kids. Not right away, but some time soon."

I was suddenly very glad Quinn had thrown some clothes on when he went back to the house for his laptop, because as soon as he heard me tell my ex I wanted him to 'impregnate' me, he was ready to do it right that second. He was standing behind me again a moment later, his arms wrapped around me, planting little kisses on the top of my head with his crotch pressed against my back. He was trying to string words together to silently tell me how honored, and thrilled, and excited, and delighted he was that I would let him be the father of my children, especially the part about 'some time soon'.

_I meant 'soon' like the next few years_, I pointedly told him, _not the next few minutes._

He chuckled then, still holding and kissing me. _Any time_, he managed to think two coherent words in a row. _Any time._

"But not Barry Bellboy?" Eric clarified.

"What?" I exploded. "No! Of course not! This isn't a general invitation to anyone with sperm! I want to have kids with my boyfriend, who I love, who loves me and wants to marry me, is good with kids, and will be a great father. Not with some guy I barely know!"

"Why did you never tell me this?" Eric looked like there were storm clouds forming all around him as he watched Quinn and I together. "Why did you keep this from me? You have always wanted this, have you not?"

"Sure," I admitted, "but it's not like you and I ever had that kind of relationship."

"Because only this," he waved his hand at my boyfriend and I, "is a _real_ relationship. You could not have anything real with me."

"Oh, right," I huffed. "I should've asked you to father my children. You could totally do that, if I just _asked_."

"There are places that sell genetic material, these days," he sniffed. "You can select exactly what you want: height, build, coloring, intellect, skills, ethnic origin... and the child is exposed to any blood the mother takes as it grows... it can be born already bonded to a vampire, so it takes on their qualities... if you had told me this was something -"

"And vampires are just so keen to get attached to mortals." Quinn was being sarcastic; I 'heard' that there were about three vampires in the world who'd done what Eric was describing, and they were viewed as soft-headed and weak by other vamps, at best.

"You never told her this could be done," Eric accused. "You told her I could not give her what she wants. This is how you convinced her that-"

"If she didn't know, that ain't my fault," Quinn fumed. "She's your _bonded_, you should've told her."

Eric actually looked contrite then. "Perhaps I should," he muttered. "She would not throw this away so lightly, if she knew what she was-"

"Let it go, Eric," I snapped. "We're not going to talk about us. There's something going on with your King that makes you think I'm in so much danger I should leave right now, and you need to either tell me what that is, or go away and let us sort it out."

Quinn forced his mind back to the topic at hand and quickly came up with an idea. "He's trying to breed telepaths, isn't he?"

Eric nodded.

"What an idiot," Quinn laughed. "Does he actually think that'll work?"

"Apparently," Eric answered, looking almost amused by the idea, too.

"Uh-huh," I took it all in slowly. "So you're saying de Castro plans to make babies with my eggs and Barry's sperm, in the hope they'll be telepathic? He's dragging me in for some sort of involuntary egg donation scheme?"

"No," Quinn corrected gently, "IVF doesn't work so well for Supes. Physical contact is needed for any kind of magic to transfer from parent to child... so for your children to have any of your gifts, they have to grow inside you, and to have the father's gifts, you have to be making physical contact with him when they're conceived. Ideally you'd have physical contact with the father right through the pregnancy."

"Oh." My head was starting to spin. "So I'd have to... with Barry... more than once... Ew."

"No, not necessarily sex," Quinn clarified. "A turkey baster and a hug'll do it, if the parents are just friends." He seemed really pleased to know that, like it was some Special Shifter Secret he was lucky to have been let in on.

"Barry has insisted that will not be necessary," Eric muttered darkly. "That he is up to the task."

"I'll bet he is," Quinn growled, suddenly furious.

"But why?" was all I could think to ask. "Why breed telepaths? What would he even do with a whole bunch of telepaths?"

"Sell them," Eric stated, as though it were the most obvious thing ever.

"Why?" I sputtered. "Who wants to buy telepaths?"

"A dozen vampires, so far. A telepath would be a valuable addition to their retinue. They have seen what you can do, and Barry as well."

"I save a bunch of vamps," I cried, "and they thank me by making me have a whole lot of babies they just take away from me when they're born? A dozen... that's twenty years of my life, I'll be churning out babies for him."

"No, he has a doctor," Eric clarified, "who promised you will have at least two or three at a time, with his treatment. They will be smaller, but still usable."

"Usable?" I yelled. "Usable? That's a baby you're talking about! My baby... not some- some- shoelace that's a bit short!"

Quinn turned me around so I was facing him and hugged me tightly, so my face was pressed against his chest. As soon as he did, I started sobbing. I couldn't bear the thought of having to have sex with Barry, over and over, so I could get pregnant with twins or triplets that I'd have to give away to some horrible vampire who had bought them from Eric's King. When I dreamed of having children, it was caring for them and raising them that I dreamed of - not pregnancy and childbirth. Those were the price for having a beautiful, tender newborn in my arms, not the point of the whole endeavor. To carry a child inside me for nine month, to feel it grow and move as my body nourished it into being, then finally bring it into the world, just to have it taken from me... I couldn't handle that.

"What have you done to stop this?" Quinn rumbled, ready for a fight even as he held me gently.

"I told him the AVL would not like it, but he went and got their approval. I have-"

"They _approved_ this?" Quinn exploded. "The AVL _approved_ a 'vampires breeding people to sell to each other' scheme?"

"Yes," Eric confirmed, and I could hear the weariness in his voice.

"And they know it's her who's going to be _bred_?"

"Yes," Eric repeated.

"After all she's done for your kind." He was murderous.

"It has worked against her, unfortunately. Other humans do not consider her or Barry one of them any more, so the AVL expects no public outcry if the scheme is discovered. Plus Felipe offered them a generous cut of the proceeds, to cover their costs if there is any PR fallout."

"They'd throw her to de Castro for a few lousy bucks? Those twisty, two-faced fuckers."

"Three hundred thousand per infant," Eric corrected. "They are taking thirty percent, due to the risky PR situation."

Unlike me, Quinn wasn't at all surprised a child of mine would sell for that much. "What else have you done to stop this?" he growled.

"I have Mr. Cataliades researching legal reasons to prevent this, but he cannot find anyone to enforce the laws against breeding fae for our own purposes. The few who stayed in this world are scattered, not especially powerful, and do not wish to involve themselves in this matter."

"You mean the full-bloods don't care what happens to a halfling," he snarled.

"Exactly."

"How can you both discuss this so calmly?" I snapped, finally turning around to face Eric again. "Like all he wants to do is steal my car or something?"

"Lover, nobody wants to steal your car," Eric told me in mock seriousness. "I can assure you, your car is in no danger whatsoever."

Quinn couldn't help laughing for a moment. "That's classic," he chortled, before turning sombre again. "It won't do either of us any good to get too angry about this. I taught you to stay calm so you can think clearly when you're in danger, remember?" He smoothed a stray hair behind my ear. "That's all I'm doing, trying to stay calm so I can figure out a solution to this. If there's a moment when being angry becomes helpful, you'll see exactly how much this pisses me off."

I nodded.

Quinn turned his attention right back to Eric then. "What else have you tried?" he demanded.

"I have various stalling tactics organized, so the decree will be lost or destroyed two or three times before it finally makes it to me, but that will only buy time, it will not save her."

"You haven't tried to talk him out of it?" There was practically steam coming out of Quinn's ears, he was so furious.

"I am not in a position to challenge Felipe's orders," Eric admitted wearily. "I am already on... a probation of sorts. I have thwarted his plans too many times recently, I face the Silver Heart if he can prove any disobedience on my part."

My boyfriend just nodded. For some reason, he was accepting that answer on face value, as though it were a perfectly good reason not to help me.

"Ooh, the Silver Heart," I mocked, "sounds terrifying. What else might you 'face', the Purple Star? The Orange Square?"

"Sook." Quinn's sharp tone caught my attention right away, and he shook his head very slightly. _Don't go there_, he added.

"Why not?" I demanded. "I'm getting sent to be de Castro's new baby factory, and he won't even object to that because he's scared of some Silver Heart? And I can't even say how much that sucks? What's so bad about an effing _Silver Heart_, anyway?"

He opened one of those doors in his mind which was usually shut tight, and for a split second, I saw a bunch of his memories all at once. Things that happened at events he had run. Things vampires had done to one another, right in front of him. Punishments for crimes, large and small. And worse than any of them - so bad it was almost never warranted - was the Silver Heart. I felt ill. When he saw me pale, that door slammed shut again, the horrible images disappearing as quickly as they'd appeared.

"Sorry," he apologized, rubbing my arms, regretting that he hadn't found some other way to explain the gravity of it to me.

"It's worse than all that?" I was astonished anything could be.

He nodded. "They remove the heart and replace it with a silver replica. I'm told it's very painful, that it burns its way through until - " He stopped himself, figuring I didn't want to know the details. He was right. "It's does a lot of damage, physically, but that's not why vampires fear it so much."

I stared at him, waiting for him to continue, but he didn't. He didn't feel like it was his place to tell me this, at least not until Eric got a chance to tell me himself. I turned my attention to my ex, staring him down until he decided to tell me why he feared this so much.

"When someone has your heart in a display case, even an old one you have since re-grown, they can send you to your final death with but a splinter," Eric explained. "They can do it any time, no matter where you are. You are no longer your own person. You must do as you are told, or face immediate staking. You become the worst kind of toady, bowing and scraping just to stay alive..." he stopped speaking for a moment, his eyes begging me to understand. "You would not choose to be made a slave, and I cannot either. Even if I did, it would not help you. Were I under Felipe's control, his first order would be to hand you over... and if I refused, he would simply kill me and take you."

"OK, I get it," I sympathized. "You really can't do anything else. So we either come up with a way to stop him, or we run."

"How does he plan to bring her in?" Quinn asked, looking for solutions to this. "Is he the one Bill's been reporting to?"

"I suspect so," Eric answered. "I have not been able to confirm that."

"I'll go through the videos and see what I can find," my boyfriend offered.

Eric suddenly looked very interested. "You have recorded this?" he gestured to the laptop.

Quinn nodded. "I've got at least six months' footage though, so apart from checking the times Bill reported in each day... it'll take me weeks to sift through it all for anything useful. If you hadn't convinced me your King wasn't a threat to her..." he glared for a moment.

"Does this have a... a go faster button?" Eric struggled for the right word to describe it. He wasn't that much better with technology than I was, really.

Quinn tinkered for a few seconds, pulling up an older video. "I can run it at a few different speeds, but there won't be any sound."

"Try six times as fast."

"Your options are four or eight."

"Eight," Eric chose.

Quinn played the video at eight-times speed for a few seconds.

Eric watched intently. "Faster?"

Quinn clicked something and the video was running twice as fast.

Eric watched intently for a few seconds longer, then said "faster" again.

Again, Quinn clicked a button and the video was twice as fast.

Eric nodded. "That is as fast as I can manage," he admitted. "What speed is this?"

"Thirty-two times."

"So I can watch an hour in two minutes. Pam should be able to manage one speed down, so she can watch an hour in four minutes."

"Uh, no offense," Quinn started, "but that's not gonna help, just seeing who's in what room when. We need to know what they're saying."

Eric looked at him like he was stupid. "In the few minutes I watched, that... uh, flunkey... was telephoning people who owe Felipe money, to encourage them to pay promptly. I would not like to be a female relative of his debtors."

Quinn did a double-take, trying to figure out how he could know that. "You lip-read?" he asked incredulously. "At _thirty-two times_ normal speed?"

"I am vampire," Eric shrugged. "We converse at that speed. Lip-reading is no harder." He was completely nonchalant about it, as though it were normal to have some weird skills like that. Perhaps when you'd had a thousand years to learn random things, it was normal.

"Uh-huh. So..." Quinn started calculating, "the best ones to watch are de Castro's office, his secretary's office outside, the three cameras in his private quarters, his second and his security chief's offices, and the main entrance to the compound... that's eight cameras. They're all on a motion sensor, so each one records an average of four hours a night... so you can get through a night's footage in an hour."

"I can have this week's tapes done by morning. I will enlist Pam to get more done."

"That would really help." Quinn was genuinely grateful. "If we know exactly what his plan is, we can find a way around it. I'll set you up so you can access all this. You can't mention this to anyone other than Pam, though."

Eric just nodded. "I am glad you have these videos," he added stiffly, and I got the feeling he was coming as close to thanking a shifter as a vampire ever would.


	31. Exchange

"I've handed over enough to get myself into really deep shit, haven't I?" Quinn asked Eric directly. "If you decide to tell de Castro about this, I'll be in trouble, even if I tell him I was acting under your orders?"

Eric nodded, and I got the feeling he wondered where this was heading. Hunter just kept playing in the long grass in the fairy meadow though, utterly unconcerned with the conversation going on around him. Clearly, this wasn't a moment when he thought his guidance would be useful.

"Then I think it's time you shared some more," my boyfriend crossed his arms defiantly, "because you know a helluva lot more about your King's plans than you've said, and there's no way either of us will be much use finding a way out of this until we know exactly how de Castro plans to get hold of her. If we know when and how he's going to do this, one of us might have some ideas you haven't thought of."

"How do I know this is not a trick?" Eric's eyes narrowed. "How do I know this video was not given to you by Felipe, so you can get me to confess something?"

"Eric," I interrupted, drawing his attention to me, "the bond still works, doesn't it? From your end, anyway? You can feel whether I'm lying or not?"

"Yes," he confirmed. "Although it would work even better if I were touching you."

"Fine." I marched over to offer him my hand.

He took it immediately, lacing his fingers with mine and staring into my eyes.

"OK, you'll know if I'm telling you the truth now, right?"

He just nodded.

"Well, you have my word that de Castro doesn't know about the video. I can read his mind easily, and he was nervous about telling you, because he'll be in so much trouble if he's found out." It was the truth, pretty much.

Eric's eyes narrowed, feeling the slight deception from me.

"OK, fine," I huffed. "I didn't want to put it quite this bluntly, but... he's scared. I felt a whole lotta fear from him when he told you. Not for himself, he's sure he can handle anything they might do to him, but if he's found out, he thinks his sister will be the one who gets hurt. He's risking her safety to give you those videos, 'cos he thinks I'll be safer if you know all about de Castro's plans. I'm telling the truth, aren't I?"

"Yes," Eric smiled, "you are. But are you certain he cannot deceive you?"

I nodded. "I hear every thought that runs through his mind; even ones he doesn't want me to. I've gotten a lot better at deep-reading people and seeing their memories, too. They don't have to be thinking about something while I'm there for me to know about it any more. I don't know everything he knows, there's a few things he doesn't want me to see and I leave those alone, but -"

"You allow him to keep things from you?" Eric demanded. "You let him keep secrets?"

"He's seen some real awful stuff," I explained. "Things shifters do to each other, things vampires do to each other, things that happened in the pits... he doesn't want me to have to witness it all, because it upsets me. I've seen behind a couple of those closed doors in his mind now, and I'm not glad I did. He doesn't want me to be haunted by the same things that haunt him. Sorry, John," I apologized over my shoulder. "This is kind of a truth, whole truth and nothing but the truth situation... he can feel any deception at all, even if I just omit something."

Eric seemed satisfied then. "So he is risking his sister's safety to improve yours."

"Yeah," I agreed. "Again. He cares about keeping me safe more than anything else. Literally. He hates you for the things you've done to me, and for talking down to him so much, and just generally for being a vampire, but if he has to work with you to keep me safe, he'll do it. If he has to risk his family for me, he'll do it. If he has to risk his own life for me, he'll do it."

"Why?" Eric's eyes were boring into me, and I could feel that he was going to make the most of this opportunity to get the truth out of me.

"Because shifters have, like a psychic knowledge of who they're meant to be with, and for him that's me. It's a one-shot deal... he can't just move on to someone else, if we split up or something happens to me. This is it, for him." I felt really uncomfortable, having to tell Eric so many things Quinn had told me in confidence, so I pulled my hand away then, determined not to say any more.

He just nodded, staring at my boyfriend, as though he could somehow read whether everything I said was true.

Quinn was just as uncomfortable about all the things I told Eric as I was, so I went back to him and tentatively hugged him, hoping he forgave me. He pulled me to him right away, holding me tight, glad to have me back in his arms.

"Keeping her safe will be a lot easier for both of us if we share what we know," Quinn reiterated. "I've told you everything you might need to know for weeks. I don't like it, but we both know she's in danger, and I thought you might be able to do something about that. But you basically just admitted you can't, telling her to leave like that. Now I've given you those videos, too. But the only way we're gonna know if there's anything else I can do, is if you tell us everything you know." His tone of voice made it clear this wasn't negotiable, that he was only giving information to Eric if an exchange took place, where he got just as much info as he gave.

Eric still hesitated for a moment before replying. "This plan has been brewing for some time," he admitted, "much has transpired."

"Then start at the beginning, and try not to leave anything out," Quinn insisted.

"Felipe developed an interest in you the first time he met you," Eric began, staring at me, "in part because you saved both our lives. He admires your strength and your skills, and he would like you for his own. He has been looking for a way to acquire you ever since, but you have always been too busy to accept jobs in Nevada," he smiled slightly. "That's why he sent the first decree."

"He sent a decree to take her from you?" Quinn was astonished. Apparently that was way out of the ordinary.

"Yes," Eric agreed wearily, "but the pledge thwarted it. Ever since then -"

"Wait," I interrupted. "How exactly did tricking me into pledging to you thwart his plans?"

"Even a vampire King or Queen can't interfere with a pledge," Quinn explained. "They respect each other's right to turn whoever they've claimed that way, whenever it suits them, no matter what."

"He has asked me to hold off on turning her now, obviously," Eric continued. "Until he is done with his latest scheme."

"Hold up," I ordered, still wanting a better explanation. "So you tricked me into it because you thought he was going to issue a decree to take me from you?"

"The decree was written. It was on its way here," Eric corrected, "on a plane with a messenger who was ordered to come to me immediately after he woke. That is why Victor was in my office that night, so he could supervise the delivery of the decree, and then drive to Bon Temps to take you while I was detained. I had the messenger delayed, so you would get to my office first. Pam and I told Victor the good news when he arrived, and when you handed me the knife, it was sealed. I know you are angry, but it was the best I could do. I had little time. Felipe acted quickly. He made the decree late one night and put it on a plane so it would arrive first thing the next evening. He hoped to catch me unawares, and we were simply lucky that he didn't. It was a vampire loyal to you who warned me, not one of my sources. You saved their lover's life in Rhodes, so they helped me save you from Felipe. Still, I only succeeded because I can stay awake a great deal longer than he knew. I received warning just before dawn, and had until sunset to enact a plan. Felipe assumed that even if I heard of it, I would not have time to act. He believed himself stronger than I, and he can stay awake barely an hour or so, each side of night-time."

"Holy shit," Quinn muttered, as it sunk in how close I had come to being taken away already. He was pretty sure that if Felipe had taken me, he wouldn't be able to free me, at least not quickly, and by then, it might be too late.

_Too late for what?_ I wondered, not sure what to make of everything I'd just heard.

"Babe," Quinn turned to face me and rested his hands on my shoulders, "if it's a choice between being turned or being taken by de Castro, let him turn you."

"But-" I started to interrupt.

"I'm serious," he cut me off, and I could see, hear and feel that he was - more so than I'd ever seen him before.

"Why?" I demanded, my voice coming out much smaller and weaker than I wanted to do. "I thought you didn't want me to become -"

"I don't," he clarified. "I really don't. But if it's a choice between that and what de Castro would do to you, being a vampire is by far the better option. You know what I think of that happening to you... but it's way nicer than the alternative. Please, trust me on this."

"It would make no difference," Eric interrupted wearily. "As soon as I turned her, she would be under his rule. He could simply order me to send her to him, and I would have no choice. He would assume that as her Maker, I could force her to do his bidding, and would expect me to do so. It is only her fae ancestry that keeps her from his dominion for now, and once she was turned, she would be out of the light forever."

"What would he do to me that's so bad?" I naively asked.

I was pretty sure he didn't mean to, but for a split-second, Quinn thought about one of the things he usually kept behind a closed door in his mind. His sister, locked in a fancy bedroom with a man with a knife. Terrified. The man was spelling out exactly what he planned to do to her, so her fear had time to brew before he did any of it. The man was extremely, obviously excited by his own ideas. Then, as quickly as they appeared, the images were gone again, safely locked away where I couldn't see them.

"What was that?" I was pretty sure I didn't want to know, but if it had anything to do with de Castro's plans for me...

"He was going to put her to work in one of his brothels." Quinn's voice was completely flat, the way it went when he couldn't allow himself to feel anything about what he was talking about. "He caters to people with very... particular tastes. Makes it possible for them to get what they want, without risking jail time."

"But she's underage!" I protested.

"Exactly."

I stared at him for a long moment, wondering what he meant by that.

"My Mom... she had nothing to offer to pay her latest debt to him, and I wasn't fit to fight right away... so she signed Frannie over to him. Under shifter law, that's binding. That's why I had to help him." He looked broken as he said it, as though seeing his sister in that situation had hurt him in ways his years in the pits never had... and having to betray his mate to save her just made it worse.

"Why would your Mom do that?" I couldn't understand how any parent would sign their child over to work in a brothel, ever.

"I don't think she knew what would happen," he insisted, but it felt like he was trying to convince himself. "She thinks he's this great guy, helping her out all the time, offering her trouble-maker daughter a job, even thinks he treated me well while I was in the pits, and that's why I survived," he shook his head. "She really doesn't see what he's capable of. She won't hear a bad word against him, not even from me."

"So he'd do something like that to me?" I could hear my voice trembling as I said it.

"No, he would most likely keep you for himself, at least in the beginning," Eric clarified. "Your gift would be more use to him than your body, at least in terms of what he could sell. He wouldn't risk his customers harming you, especially not when keeping you alive would give him such control over me." He paused for a moment, considering something. "And your pet as well, it seems," he finally added, staring at Quinn.

"That's his way," Quinn grudgingly confirmed, "come at you through the ones you love. Or like the taste of, or whatever your kind substitute for actual feelings." He spat out the last part, his hatred of vampires coming to the surface.

"They have feelings," I corrected. "They're not _that_ different."

Quinn gave me a questioning look.

"Blood bonded to him, remember? He has feelings. Lots and lots of feelings," I rolled my eyes.

"OK, so what's the situation now?" He changed the subject abruptly, not liking the reminder. "Why can't the pledge protect her any more?"

"He cannot take her from me," Eric explained, "but he can demand any tribute he wishes, and he wants baby telepaths. Apparently, that is not an unreasonable demand for a monarch to make. It will not cause me undue financial strain, or stop me feeding on her, and he argues that even in late pregnancy when the kind of sex she prefers would be difficult, there are plenty of other things she could do for me, so my needs are still met. I had no plans to make use of her reproductive capabilities myself, so he sees no reason why he should not. The pledge prevents him taking her from me, but I know that once he has her, there will be some threat to her safety that makes it necessary to keep her with him. She is under his formal protection, so I cannot stop that. He cannot feed on her or have sex with her while the pledge is in effect, or allow anyone else to do so, without asking me... but so long as he waits until he has invalidated the pledge, he has broken no laws."

"He can't just make me stay there!" I protested. "I have rights! There are laws about keeping someone against their will. He can't just do this!"

"You're pledged to him," Quinn growled, "and that brings you under their laws. Doesn't it, Eric?"

My ex nodded.

"But if human law can't help me," I sputtered, "what about fairy law? There must be something that prevents this?"

"Even if there were fairies around who would help you, the pledge weakened your connection to the fae, because it means you want to become a vampire," Quinn told me. "They really wouldn't approve of that. Even if you can prove he tricked you into it, they'll just say it serves you right for boning a vamp. The mixing of magics is really frowned upon."

"And they have left this world, so they are less able to enforce their laws," Eric added. "Mr. Cataliades has checked the legal angles carefully, and there is nothing to be done. In theory, there are laws against this, but in the circumstances... no fae will come to your aid."

I let that all slowly sink in: de Castro's plans for me, Eric's failed efforts to stop them...

"That was his latest decree he was dictating in the video, wasn't it?" Quinn asked.

"It appears so," Eric confirmed.

"So a scroll will get here tomorrow night, declaring that you have to send her to Las Vegas immediately to make the baby telepaths he wants, and you have no way of challenging it yet," Quinn summarized.

Eric nodded again. "That is why she must leave," he repeated.

"I don't think that's the best plan," my boyfriend replied evenly. "Once she starts running, she'll never be able to stop. That's no life for her. And for me to go with her, I'd have to cut ties with the company, and I'll lose a lot of my resources if I do that. The longer we run, the harder it'll get to stay safe... it's only a matter of time until she's found. It'll be a few years, maybe a few decades, but it'll happen."

"Do you have a better idea?" Eric snapped.

"I might. As long as de Castro has authority over her, she's not safe, right?"

"You think I should send her to another monarch," Eric sighed. "I have considered it... I believe I could trust Russell with her, although Bart is less certain... Stan treated his telepath reasonably well, too... but she wishes not to leave her home."

"That's not what I was saying," Quinn amended. "We need to get her out of vampire jurisdiction altogether."

"I have considered that," Eric dismissed him, "and there is no point. The fae who are left in this world will not defend her."

"They don't have to be here and you know it," Quinn retorted. "I get the impression Niall's still aware of what's happening, and even from the other realms, you don't want to piss him off. But that's not what I'm suggesting. Vampires and fairies aren't the only ones with the strength to keep her safe."

Eric literally sniggered then. "You think your kind could protect her? They could not keep her from a determined monkey. To suggest they could keep her from Felipe for any length of time..." he laughed loudly at the idea.

"Not indefinitely," Quinn admitted. "But we're not as stupid as we let you-all believe. Haven't you noticed how many times our supposed fuck-ups stop vamps from harming other shifters? We could keep her safe long enough for your kind to sort themselves out."

Eric narrowed his eyes then. "Sort ourselves out?" His voice dripped with disdain. "There is no need. My kind have our affairs in order."

"Oh, come on," Quinn snorted. "_de Castro_ as King of Louisiana and Arkansas? The little creep couldn't find his way around Bourbon Street with a tourist map. He's practically bankrupted all the Supes in New Orleans, and you know what a Supe mecca the place used to be. Yours is the only Area in the whole of both states where vamps still make any money, and even your businesses don't seem to be going so great, now you spend so much time jumping through hoops to be allowed to keep them. Your King sucks. Why you let him continue being King, I do not know." He shook his head and stared Eric down, waiting for an answer.

Eric was silent, just staring back.

"It's not," Hunter told him, drawing our attention to the fact that he was still playing at our feet.

"Not what?" Eric asked, stunned out of his thoughts.

"A trick," Hunter answered. "To make you do high _tree-sin_, too. He hates the old King more than he hates you."

"He's right," Quinn confirmed. "You might want my girlfriend, but you've never tried to put my sister to work in a snuff brothel. You get a few points for that."

"How generous of you," Eric muttered sarcastically. "And she is my bonded, that supersedes any stupid -"

"Enough," I snapped, before they could start arguing about me again. "This decree, you think it'll be here tomorrow?" I asked Eric.

He nodded.

"Then we need a plan right away," I reminded them both, "and over-throwing the creepy King isn't gonna happen tomorrow, is it Hunter?"

"No," my nephew confirmed. "You need two or three weeks to plan."

Eric's eyebrows shot up as high as I'd ever seen them go. "That soon?" His voice was tinged with excitement. Even with the bond closed, I could feel how much he liked the idea, and not just because he enjoyed a good fight so much. He was eager to be out from under de Castro's thumb, free to live his life (or un-life, or whatever it was) as he saw fit, without constant interference in his affairs.

"But you have to be King," Hunter added.

That brought Eric back down to earth with an abrupt thud. "There is always a catch," he muttered.

"You don't want to lord it over all the other vamps?" Quinn asked incredulously. "Make them kiss your feet all day?"

Eric snorted at that idea. "I would not make others bow and scrape to me, even if I were their King. A King who weakens his subjects is a weak King. But that is not why I do not want that power."

"Right, _Master_," I mocked, holding my fist to my chest and bowing the way I'd seen some of his vampire staff do.

"My staff show me the proper respect," Eric glared at me, "but I ask no more. You do not know what it is to bow and scrape, you Americans."

I realized he probably had a point there; America might not be perfect, but it sure was better than a lot of other places I'd heard about.

"Then why?" Quinn just wouldn't let go of it; he was fascinated by Eric's refusal. I 'heard' that to him, vampires were all megalomaniacs, eager for any opportunity to make slaves of everyone around them. He couldn't believe Eric didn't want that.

"It is like painting a target on your back," Eric shrugged. "You have not noticed how power changes hands among my kind? Once you are King, everyone else who wants to be King wishes you dead by their hand. I do not need that many enemies."

"That's silly," Hunter laughed at him.

"Really?" Eric wondered, crouching to talk to the child. "And what do you know of vampire politics, little seer?"

"You'll be King for three hundred years," he said simply. "Probably more."

"So if I take this job, I have only three hundred years left?" Eric didn't look happy about that. I guess it didn't seem like long to him.

"No, you'll get sick of it," Hunter explained. "You'll let Pam be Queen next. No-one will kill you. You'll die much quicker if you don't be King."

"How long do I have then?" Eric quizzed him.

"Not long," was the answer. "If you're lucky, only a year."

"How would that make me _lucky_?"

"You won't see what he does to Aunt Sookie." Hunter couldn't help a few tears escaping as he said it; he'd seen something truly awful.

"This isn't getting us anywhere," I interrupted, kneeling down to rub my nephew's back soothingly. "We need to work out how to keep your King from taking me away tomorrow night, not how to keep you alive another millennium." I glared up at Eric.

"I've got a plan," Quinn spoke up behind me. Once he had everyone's attention, he continued.


	32. Blindside

Eric and I were both staring at Quinn, waiting for him to continue, while Hunter played peekaboo from behind the long grass in the fairy meadow.

I was really hoping Quinn's plan would be good. If it wasn't, I had two choices: let Eric send me to his King and be forced to have possibly-telepathic babies with Barry... or run away so he couldn't find me. I didn't like either of those options.

"And what is this plan?" Eric demanded.

"Gutteridge can protect her."

"Your business partner?" I asked.

Quinn nodded.

"This will not work," Eric dismissed him. "There are things your pet does not know about you, aren't there Sookie?" He looked really smug.

"Like what?" I had no idea what he was talking about; I wasn't keeping any secrets I could think of...

"I know about Niall," Quinn replied steadily. "That he's her great-grandfather."

Eric's eyebrows shot up. "You would suggest a demon overlord protect the Prince of all Fae's great-granddaughter?"

"Sure."

Eric stared at him in disbelief. "This is the craziest plan I have ever heard."

"Not really. Gutteridge did a lot to end the war between the higher and lower realms, remember? You were around when it happened."

"And now the fairies fight each other instead," Eric reminded him.

"That's their business," Quinn retorted.

Eric thought about it for a few seconds. "He will not do this," he concluded. "No demon would involve himself with the fairies. Especially not to protect one."

Quinn just raised an eyebrow. "You spend a lot of time with Gutteridge, do you? Funny, I've never seen you around. He never mentions you."

"You think he will." Eric didn't seem to be asking a question.

"I've worked with him a long time. I'm fairly sure that if I ask him, he'll do it. I have a couple favors I can call in. Only way I'll know for sure though, is if I call him." Quinn reached into his jeans pocket for his phone. "Does anyone mind?"

I shook my head and a moment later, Eric did too. Hunter just reached out his hand. When Quinn handed the phone to him, he imparted it with a small spark of magic that allowed it to work out here, then handed it right back. I realized then that the fairy meadow was magically shielded, so nothing that happened within it could be observed from outside, without a kind of 'permission' being granted first. Hunter had figured out how to grant that permission, so he could make Quinn's various gadgets work here... but that permission was strictly a one-time deal. That's why Hunter told us to come here: nobody could spy on us.

As Quinn dialed the number, I realized I wanted to hear this conversation - it was about my safety, after all.

"Mind if I...?" I tapped my head to indicate I wanted to listen in telepathically.

He just nodded, and I 'heard' that he had assumed I would.

"Quinn, what can I do for you?" answered a male voice, after only two rings.

The man sounded utterly normal; like any golf-playing middle-aged executive. He spoke with a thick West Coast accent, but that was the only identifying feature his voice had. It wasn't at all how I expected a demon overlord to sound.

"There's something I need your help with," Quinn told him matter-of-factly. "Not work-related, more of a personal favor."

"Sounds serious."

"Sookie's in danger. de Castro has plans for her."

"Ah, the breeding scheme," Gutteridge answered gruffly. "Baby telepaths for sale."

"You knew about that?"

"Met with him a couple days ago. He tried to sell me one. Knows damn well that breeding two telepaths doesn't usually give you third."

"What did you do?"

Gutteridge snorted derisively. "What I'd do to any vampire who tries to con me out of a million bucks. Tossed him out the window."

OK, not a normal middle-aged executive. Still, for a demon overlord, the guy sounded... well, chirpy.

Quinn laughed. "I really hope you were in the office."

"Of course." He sounded like he was smiling.

_Our office is on the fifty-eight floor_, Quinn silently told me, and I couldn't help smiling too.

"I guess it's too much to hope that he met with you during the day?" Quinn added.

"Unfortunately not," Gutteridge agreed. "Still, worth every cent of the re-glazing bill. I spent my coffee break watching his people scrape him off the ground and twist him back into shape. He'll be healed by now, but video lasts awhile." I could definitely hear a grin in his voice, now.

Quinn had another good chuckle. "Send me a copy? Frannie'll love it."

"It's online. Search for 'vampire thrown from 58th floor window'. It's great footage, really shows the impact well."

Quinn picked up his laptop and found the video. He watched it once himself, laughing the whole time, then handed his laptop to Eric. As soon as he'd seen it, Eric was grinning broadly, sadistic glee radiating from him. I didn't want to see it, so I looked away from the screen, making sure Hunter didn't watch it either.

"Couldn't agree more," Quinn told him. "Irena filmed it?"

"Of course. Gal's the best assistant I've ever had, gets so much done for me. You thought any more about hiring a PA?"

"Matter-of-fact, Sookie suggested someone this morning," he winked at me. _Prank of the century_, he added silently, thinking of who I'd suggested.

"Oh, that's great news! But enough shop talk. So de Castro's mama telepath is your mate, after all. Bastard swore he's got one of his own now, that it's not her."

"Right, and he has such a reputation for honesty. Anyway... we're trying to find someone powerful enough to protect Sookie from him, someone who he'll think twice about messing with."

"Well, I'm your man." He sounded like he was grinning again. "And if you insist on making this a personal favor deal... I know I owe you a few, but if your gal introduced me to that scrumptious bodyguard of hers when the fae get back, that'd be worth a century or so's protection..."

"I'll ask."

Quinn turned to me, not bothering to cover the phone mouthpiece, because apparently it wouldn't make any difference if he did - demons had good hearing, I 'heard'. "He wants an introduction to your bodyguard in return," he said for show, knowing I'd already heard. "He has a real thing for fairies," he added.

"Uh, y'all know Claudine's dead," I replied sadly.

"Claude's more his style. He would've inherited the gig when Claudine died, if he were still in this world."

"Oh!" I exclaimed. "Oh... okay then. Um, I don't want to sound ungrateful but... what would he do to Claude?"

"Short answer: shower him with priceless gifts and overblown compliments 'til he agrees, then fuck him a whole lot."

"So it's just a sex thing. He doesn't want to hurt him?"

"Babe, if Claude decides to fuck a demon, he knows what he's getting himself into," was all he would say about it.

"That doesn't really answer my question," I grumbled. "Is he at any risk if I do this?"

"No!" he exclaimed. "This isn't a 'sell out your cousin to save your own skin' deal. He likes hot young guys, is all. If they're strong enough to handle the stuff demons like in bed, all the better. If Claude's into that, great. If he's not, Gutteridge will get the message in a decade or two and stop chasing him. In the meantime, he gets gifts and compliments and all that stuff fairies love."

"So Claude will know how to handle it?"

"Sure," Quinn agreed, "but he'll encourage him anyway. Fairies always want the most powerful guy in the room chasing 'em around," he glanced between Eric and I with a wry smile on his face. "The more powerful your admirers, the more potent their adoration is. Claude will know he's playing with fire, 'cos sooner or later he'll be so drunk on it that he'll give in and get involved, but he'll still flirt back. 'Course, Gutteridge is playing with fire himself, chasing a fairy. If anyone's gonna enchant him and turn him back to the light, it'll be Claude." He shook his head. "The things we do for love, huh?"

I caught in his thoughts that a fairy-demon relationship was like the ultimate forbidden love - about three times as taboo as a fairy-vampire relationship, and ten times as dangerous (to both parties) - but a lot of fairies and demons were attracted to each other anyway.

"And that's all he'll ask of me?" I clarified. "He's not going to demand other things as well, is he?"

"No," Quinn promised. "He said being introduced to Claude is worth a century of protection, so that's all you'll have to do. He won't demand anything else."

I thought about it for a few seconds, then made my decision. "Tell him I'll meet him, and if I think he's OK, I'll introduce him to Claude if he ever comes back to this world. But make it clear that I'm not gonna match-make; I'll get them in the same room at the same time so they can meet, but that's it. Whether he succeeds in seducing Claude is completely up to him, I won't help with that."

I was sure that once he'd actually met Claude, he'd change his mind. My gorgeous cousin was only attractive until he opened his mouth; his personality more than canceled out his looks.

Quinn nodded and put the phone to his ear again. "Did you hear all that?" he asked.

"Sure," Gutteridge replied. "Your gal's got _chutzpah_, that's for sure. Tell her, we have a deal."

Quinn took his phone from his ear and told me, "deal's on" for show, then pressed it back to his ear.

"She's Claude's cousin?" was Gutteridge's next question.

"Oh, fuck," Quinn swore. "Was it me that let that slip, or her?"

"You."

"Crap. That goes no further, OK? Nobody's supposed to know about it. I guess you need to know if you're gonna protect her, but-"

"So she's related to Niall?" His voice had that 'huge grin' sound again.

"She's his great-granddaughter," Quinn admitted, then mouthed 'sorry' to me.

I just shrugged; if his boss was willing to protect me, I agreed that he needed to know who else was a danger to me.

"That's wonderful!" Gutteridge exclaimed. "When Niall finds out his girl had to turn to me for protection..." his laughter boomed out of the phone, and for a moment, he didn't sound remotely human.

Quinn laughed right back. "Oh, he'll know. I'm standing right next to a _sidh_ as we speak."

"Perfect! Really, you think this is me doing you a favor?" He laughed that demonic laugh some more.

"I see your point. So, you don't mind protecting her from his enemies as well then?"

"Not at all!" the demon answered gleefully. "Not. At. All. I think I will quite enjoy saving Niall's girl from his enemies. And I will enjoy telling him about it even more."

Quinn chuckled again. I 'heard' that Gutteridge and Niall weren't enemies in the 'want to kill each other' sense, but they had a centuries-long rivalry and loved to trade insults. Apparently Gutteridge protecting me was a _huge_ insult to Niall, which was more than enough motivation to keep me safe. The better a job he did protecting me, the more he could boast, since Niall's own efforts to protect me hadn't worked out so well.

Then Gutteridge completely changed tack. "You know, this doesn't have to be a personal favor," he told Quinn. "We could keep it strictly business."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, her talents would be very useful to the company..."

"She's my mate, not a company asset," Quinn growled.

As soon as he said it, Eric's eyes widened. He edged towards me, making sure I wasn't scared, then gently lifted my hair. He carefully checked the back of my neck, then each side in turn. When he was done, I could see from the corner of my eye that he looked really relieved. Then he shot Quinn a triumphant look, which my boyfriend studiously ignored.

_O-kay_, I thought, _so Quinn's not actually my mate until he marks me_. I briefly wondered why he hadn't done it yet, then remembered that he told me he wouldn't do it unless I asked him to. I immediately knew that once we were alone again, I would ask.

"Oh, I wasn't suggesting we bring her in as an employee," Gutteridge conceded, as Eric checked my neck. "I was thinking something more like Liz's deal. We act as her agent, anyone who wants to hire her has to come through us, and we keep her safe in return."

"Liz only needs protection from vamps, not the fae."

"That's true. Perhaps she should only work at our events, where there's plenty of security. You know, I don't think we'd even take a cut of her earnings, if she did that. Her sessions at VampCon sold out in a night, and we got a couple hundred extra sign-ups because of her, two-thirds of 'em human. If she worked three or four of our events a year... she'd make a packet, we'd make a packet, we'd have ample reason for her to be under my protection..."

Eric was staring at me in alarm, and I could feel that he wanted to start yelling.

Quinn just sighed. "I'll talk to her about it, and I'll see if I can get Liz to talk to her as well. But I won't spin anything in our favor."

"That's all I ask." Then Quinn's business partner added, "We'll abide by her terms, of course. She'll never be left alone with vamps, no humans will be killed or maimed unless she agrees to it, and we'll take ID from all the humans she reads so she can have someone follow up to be sure they're safe."

I was impressed to hear that. I'd only mentioned in passing that I didn't want humans getting killed as a result of my work, but Quinn had clearly gotten the message and made sure my readings wouldn't cause any deaths.

"You really want her to come work for us."

"No, I can't be Niall's great-granddaughter's boss," he sighed. "But if she agreed to work _with_ us... it would be a big step."

"You mean all the demons will be impressed that you're bringing fairy royalty under your control, too."

Gutteridge snorted. "I'm not looking to re-start the war. But if she worked with us for a while, and we treated her fairly... it's an olive branch."

"OK, I get where you're going with this," Quinn grumbled, "and I'll talk to her about it. But she's my priority, and if this isn't right for her, I won't ask her to do it."

"I expect nothing less. This only works if the deal is good for her, too."

"Fine." Then Quinn thought of something else. "Perhaps it would be good if it leaked that you were trying to make a deal with her?"

"Yes, I'd thought of that, too." He sounded like he was grinning again.

"There'll be no gap then." Quinn was nodding to himself.

"So you have a way of freeing her from the Viking?"

"I do," Quinn confirmed.

Eric looked really pissed off when he heard that.

"Will he be an ongoing threat to her?" Gutteridge continued.

"Officially, of course he will."

"And unofficially?"

"I can't discuss that with you."

"I see." He was definitely grinning again now. "Strange bedfellows you have these days, Quinn."

"Don't I know it," he agreed. "Don't I know it."

"So, what happens next?"

"Hold tight for now. There's a couple people I need to discuss this with, then I'll call you back."

"I'll speak to you later then." He hung up.

"So this is all a plot to take her from me?" Eric demanded, the second the phone call ended. "To destroy our bond?"

"That's not what I'm suggesting," Quinn corrected. "We both know what severing the bond would do to her."

"What would it do to me?" I ask.

"It would hurt you a lot," is all he would say. "I'll tell you more about it later, if you want to hear it?"

"I do."

"We might have to pretend to sever the bond," my boyfriend told my ex, "but I don't think actually doing it is the best idea."

"So you will leave the bond in place," Eric's eyes narrowed. "But you still intend to take her from me."

Quinn rolled his eyes. "Firstly," he snorted, "if you could keep her safe, there'd be no need. And secondly, I can't take her from you, Eric. We both know that. This only works if you relinquish your claim."

"Then your plan is stupid," Eric seethed. "There is no way I would willingly let her go. Felipe will know I did this to thwart his plans, and I will be punished. But this is what you want, is it not?"

"Me, personally? Hell yeah," Quinn admitted. "You deserve anything you get. But she'd never forgive me, so we have to make it look like you were forced."

"Felipe will not believe it."

"If you called him asking for help..." Quinn trailed off, and I could feel that he knew he was asking a lot of Eric.

Eric's eyes narrowed. "And why would I need his help?"

"Say, she planned to take legal action against you for defiling your bond," Quinn began. "Say, you were likely to be convicted... would you consider relinquishing your claim on her to prevent that?"

"No," Eric admitted. "I would take the punishment rather than let her go. I would not leave her unprotected."

"Yeah, I get that." Quinn sounded almost like he was commiserating. "But if Felipe were in that position, he'd give her up in a second. So I think he'd believe that you would, too."

Eric nodded. "You think there would be a strong case?"

"Two girls you fed on turned up at Merlotte's and told everyone who'd listen what you did with them," Quinn explained patiently. "Her testimony about it won't count for much because she wants out of the bond, and mine isn't much better because I want to be with her, but Sam and Amelia were there too. They're both Supes, more or less, so a vampire court would hear them. Holly the Wiccan waitress was there as well, and she might get in, too. Plus you've had the bond closed for almost a month now... that doesn't look good for you, does it?"

"No, it doesn't," Eric conceded. "It is a strong case."

"So, she springs legal action on you, you tell her you'll let her go so she'll drop the case, then call your King to ask his help in quashing the charges, so you don't have to honor your promise to her."

"But before he and I succeed, we are blind-sided by the news that Gutteridge has offered her his formal protection," Eric finished. "This plan would work."

"We'll have to warn Sam," Quinn added, "so he knows to be careful. I'll make sure Amelia's safe, and it's better if we keep Holly out of it, if we can."

Eric just shrugged.

"Sookie won't be happy if any of her friends get killed," he reminded my ex.

"Fine," Eric muttered. "Felipe will know you are behind this. He will know the legal action was your idea, and when he hears of Gutteridge's involvement, he'll assume you plotted this to bring her into your company."

"I don't care what he believes," Quinn smiled, "as long as she's safe."

Then Eric got a real twinkle in his eye. "I could do this in such a way that Bill is punished for it."

"What did you have in mind?" my boyfriend asked eagerly.

"I will tell Felipe I had Bill spying on you two, and that I am sure he caught wind of this plan. I will remind Felipe that Bill wants her as his own, and imply that he did not tell me of your plan, because he believed she would return to him once she was free of me. And since Bill is Felipe's spy as well..." His smile was plainly inhuman.

Quinn smiled back. "I like where you're going with this."

"What will happen to Bill?" I interrupted.

"Vampire punishments are all pretty violent," Quinn reminded me. "He'll be injured in some way, for keeping information to himself to double-cross everyone. They won't kill him over it, and I expect they'll pick something you won't readily notice, so he'll be back here spying on you within a couple days."

When he first started speaking, I was absolutely opposed to this part of their plot... but when he said that last bit, I abruptly changed my mind. Bill had been spying on me for Felipe. I trusted him, and he had sold me out to both Eric and his King. He deserved whatever he got.

"OK," was all I said.

"Lover, he may escape physical punishment entirely," Eric promised. "He may simply lose whatever reward he was to get for spying on you."

"It's OK," I repeated. "As long as he won't get killed over this, and they're not gonna chop off his arm or something, I'm OK with it."

"Arms are only taken as a punishment for theft," Quinn informed me. "Very major theft, at that. So no, they won't chop off his arm. Not even a hand."

"Good," I nodded. "I don't want to know what happens to him, but he deserves to be punished. He betrayed me again, and I don't want him to get away with it."

"Then we have a plan." Quinn turned to Eric. "You call your King to ask his help in getting Sookie back, I'll have Mr. Cataliades get everything ready to make it look like we were serious about taking you to court, and then I'll have Gutteridge announce that she's under his protection. Will that all work, Hunter?"

Hunter was surprised to be asked; he didn't expect any of us to rely on him yet. But he looked into the future anyway, re-checking what he'd already seen. "Yes," he decided. "The bad King won't give up. But you'll stop him."

My nephew yawned then, and when I looked at my watch, it was past 10pm. We'd been out here talking for a really long time.

"I think I should put him to bed now," I told both men. "It's far too late for a child his age to be up and about."

"There's still a few things we need to work out," Quinn apologized. "Do you mind if I'm out here a bit longer?"

"Sure," I smiled. "I can try one of the spells Amelia taught me, to make it seem like you're inside with us if anyone's watching."

"Great," he grinned back.

"Night, Eric," I called out, as I picked Hunter up and started towards the edge of the fairy meadow, to begin the mile-long trudge back to my house. I was suddenly very thankful we both glowed in the dark now: even with the almost-full moon above us, we wouldn't otherwise have been able to see our way through the woods.

Then I realized how much Eric had risked to come here and tell me his King's plans, and how much it would hurt his pride to have to call and ask for help, and how much he must care about my safety, to relinquish his claim over me to protect me from his King. I set Hunter on his feet, and went back to where he was standing.

He looked stunned when I walked right up to him and hugged him.

"Thank you," I told him as I pulled away. "It means a lot to me that you'd do all this to keep me safe."

He stared at me dumb-founded, but I felt his emotions radiating off him, and all I could do was stare back. He did care about me, I could feel that now. He wanted me - wanted to possess me in every way - but some deeper part of him only cared about seeing me happy. I was so touched, if he'd just stayed quiet a moment longer, I probably would've kissed him. But instead, he spoiled the moment completely.

"You will be mine again," he told me. "I feel how much you want me. Fucking this animal is not enough for you, lover." He fixed me in his most lecherous smirk; a look that made the expression 'eye-fuck' seem chaste. Clearly, the feelings I was sensing weren't his.

"You're right," I agreed, rolling my eyes. "Just fucking _anyone_ isn't enough for me. I want to get married and have children. I want to marry _him_ and have _his _children," I stared at Quinn, turning my body towards him instead of Eric.

As soon as I said it, I was in my boyfriend's arms, and he was kissing me like there was no-one else around. I melted against him, making little happy sounds as I kissed him back with everything I had. When he finally released me, it took me about thirty seconds to catch my breath. I stared into his eyes the whole time.

"Come inside soon?" I asked, my voice husky and low. As soon as I'd said it, I realized I meant it in more than one way. Corny, corny me.

He just nodded and held me tighter, so I could feel how much he liked that idea.

Then I eased out of his arms, turned on my heel and walked away, without sparing my ex another glance. At the edge of the clearing, I scooped Hunter up and marched into the woods, carefully following the path back home.

I tried to ignore the pain that flooded into my mind as I left.

* * *

_Author's note: I've had a bunch of requests for a version of this story from Eric's point of view. I've been working on something along those lines, although it's from Pam's POV rather than Eric's because I think she's the better narrator for it. (Read: sees more of what's going on, has a sense of humor about even the really angsty stuff, and might have a big role to play in sorting some things out. ;) _

_So... do I interrupt this for a couple of weeks to finish and post the Pam's POV piece? Or push on with this one? (There's only so many writing hours in the day, so I can't manage both atm.) Leave a comment and let me know what you'd prefer...  
_


	33. Territory

_A/N: There were twice as many votes to continue this story than to take a break and post the __Pam's POV __companion piece, so I'll keep going here and post the other one after it's done. _

* * *

"All go OK?" I asked Quinn, the moment he burst into the kitchen.

It'd been almost an hour since I finished Hunter's bedtime story - he was so tired he fell asleep five pages in - and I was worried there might be a problem with the plan. Even cleaning up all the mess a child could make in a day couldn't keep my mind off the King's horrible breeding scheme, and the more I thought of it, the more it terrified me. He and Eric were just be finalizing the details, and that surely wouldn't take this long, would it?

It took under a second for my boyfriend to realize I was still scared. He took the cloth I'd been using to wipe the table (for the third time) out of my hand, turned me to face him, and rested his hands on my shoulders.

"You're safe," he assured me, and I could feel that he meant it. He silently added, _I won't let that happen to you. If I have to stake the King myself to stop him, I will_. _Eric would, too._ He was amazed about that last part, I could feel that.

All of a sudden, I could breath freely again, and I smiled. His certainty made me feel safe. Oddly, his willingness to admit it when he couldn't protect me made me believe him unquestioningly when he said he could. His word on that was enough for my worry to immediately subside.

And then, in that weird turnabout that seemed to happen every time a dangerous situation abated (especially if the danger was sure to come back later), all my nervous energy started turning into lust. I'd always felt strange about that, but he'd told me a few days ago that it was called 'battlefield lust', and I figured that if it had a name, it couldn't be that abnormal to feel horny every time I faced death or danger.

"Sorry I wasn't here to help clean up after Hunter tonight," he apologized, "keeping you safe seemed more important. It won't be-"

"Hush," I purred. "We're finally alone. He's asleep, and Amelia and James aren't back yet... we have the place all to ourselves." I knew it wasn't strictly true: my 'vampire GPS' told me Eric was still somewhere nearby, and Bill was probably creeping around outside, as usual... but this was the closest to alone we were gonna get.

He grinned as he heard me say it, then simply agreed, "We do."

He bent down to kiss me, and magic tingled where our lips met. His hands slid under my shirt at the small of my back, and mine wrapped around his neck to pull us closer together. It was one of those kisses that felt like time had stopped and the world had shrunk, so there was only us in the universe, now and always. We smooched for so long we both forgot to breath, too wrapped up in the feel of our bodies pressed together to think of anything else. Then our foreheads were touching and we were both panting, sharing the same air, lips still so close. He was already hardening against my belly. Yum.

I gave him a cheeky look and stepped back, crossing my arms over my chest. "Well, this isn't right," I mock-scolded. "You're not meant to be wearing clothes."

He chuckled and shook his head, then pulled his t-shirt off in a single fluid movement. "Better?"

I was too distracted to reply right away, because my brain had decided it was far more important to stare at his chest. There was something about that combination of cat genes and huge muscles that was almost too much. Men who move gracefully are beautiful to me, and men with abundant muscles are beautiful to me, and combining both in one package was like a recipe for me drool all over myself. Thankfully, he wasn't offended by my ogling; he enjoyed watching me get all flustered and lust-addled when I looked at him. I 'heard' him think it was only fair, since his brain stopped working when I was topless, too.

But no sooner had I regained my composure, than he was unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans and then... oh, boy. At some point, he'd worked out that I had a thing for male backsides, and now he made a point of bending over in front of me at every opportunity. It was bad enough when he was fully clothed, but in only underwear, he was completely irresistible. It only took him a couple of seconds to get out of those jeans, but by the time he did, I was standing behind him and groping his ass, digging my nails into those tight, high globes, enjoying the way his muscles moved as he stood back up. I leaned into him, pressing my chest against his back, but I just couldn't persuade my hands to dislodge themselves.

"Better now?" he repeated, not expecting me to answer.

I shook my head against his back and started sliding his underwear off his hips. He chuckled as he finished the job I started, and chuckled again when my hands gravitated right back to his ass, squeezing and cupping and sliding all over that firm, firm flesh. When he took a step away from me a few seconds later, I made a disappointed sound, like a child whose favorite toy had just been taken away. Or a child who dropped their ice-cream in the dirt before they got a chance to lick it...

He turned to face me and just stood there, letting me look at him. I was right: this was much better than when he was wearing clothes. Sure, he filled out any outfit beautifully, but they always hid _something_ I liked. I couldn't work out what to stare at, so my eyes kept roaming. First they traced his big, rounded shoulders and slid down the ropes of muscle on his arms. Then they got stuck on his plump brown nipples for a few seconds. Then I looked up, past his soft, full lips to those huge, pansy-purple eyes, full of feral thoughts as he watched me studying him. His expression said he couldn't keep his hands off me much longer, so my eyes roamed downwards to see exactly how aroused he was, and I couldn't help biting my lip when I saw what would soon be inside me. But I could never pass over his abs that quickly, so I had to take one more look at how hard and flat and defined they were. Then my eyes found those taut thighs, and carved calves, and ankles that were by far the thinnest part of his leg, but somehow weren't remotely delicate...

I probably would've stood there drooling all night, but he stepped forward and cupped my face in those enormous, hot hands of his instead. He paused for a second, making his intent clear, and my heart pounded in my chest. There was something about the way he did that which made me melt: giving me a moment to object before he even kissed me, no matter how much my face and pheromones said I wanted him. That slight delay was his way of making sure his size and strength never intimidated me into doing something I didn't want, and I loved him for it, but the wait also made me hunger for whatever he was about to do. When he finally kissed me, I was clinging to him, panting for him, wanting to climb all over him.

But first, there was something I needed to make sure he knew. I reached my left hand up to take hold of his scruff, tugging it far harder than I meant to, but still not nearly hard enough to hurt him. He let out a contented sigh, the cat in him responding happily. Then my right hand started tracing the scar I left on his neck, touching each tooth mark with a fingertip. How I could do that, I wasn't quite sure, since I couldn't actually _see_ the marks while my eyes were closed and my lips were on his, but I somehow knew exactly where they were. I loved the feelings that washed through him whenever I touched him there: an intoxicating mix of belonging, surrender and reciprocated love.

"Mine," I growled, possessiveness surging through me. I needed to be sure he knew that; knew he belonged with only me.

"Yes, yours," he whispered back, grinning at me. "All yours."

"Nobody else's," I added. "Not ever." My fairy instincts were screaming at me to make him say it; it was somehow important that he did.

"I know," he agreed, suddenly serious. "If I have you, I can't have anyone else. I already made that choice. Made it ages ago. This," he reached up and gently moved my hand, so my fingers stroked the scar again, "means I'm yours. I belong to you. Only you."

I could feel how deeply he meant it, and the fairy part of me was appeased. "Belong with me," I corrected, as the human part took over again.

"No, belong _to_ you," he insisted. "That's how it works. Yours mean yours, for my kind. I'm yours. All yours."

I nodded. "How you feel about this," I stroked the scar once more, sending that intense bolt of emotion through him again, "is how I feel about getting married."

"I know," he smiled, "and if it were up to me, we'd be at a registry office tomorrow morning. But I guess you want a big ceremony?"

"Yeah," I admitted shyly, unsure if he'd be OK with that, since human customs were so strange to him. "Always have."

"Then that's what we'll do." He'd already decided he'd do whatever was meaningful to me, since I'd been so great about doing the things that were meaningful to him.

I didn't really feel like I had, yet, but I knew how to fix that. I pulled him down for one more long, intense kiss, then tossed my hair over my shoulder and offered him my neck. "Bite me," I murmured, staring into his eyes.

His instincts screamed to do it, I could 'hear' that, but he deliberately misunderstood me instead. He walked me backwards until my butt was against the kitchen table, planting little kisses all over my neck as he did. Then he bit down lightly, not breaking the skin, just leaving tiny bruises where he nipped me. I couldn't help moaning, loving every second of it, even if it wasn't what I really wanted. Then he started sucking on that sensitive flesh, knowing I loved that, too, and for a while, I wasn't sure I wanted to protest at all. Thankfully, I didn't have to.

"You can feel how much I want this, right?" he whispered in my ear. "But I won't do it until you know what it means. Once I've marked you, you're mine. I can't take it back if you don't like it. Besides, when I dream about doing this, you know exactly what you're offering me, and it turns you on to give me that, and your body aches for the feel of my fangs on your neck..." He was staring into my eyes again, giving me a look so intense it felt like one or both of us would spontaneously combust.

"It does," I insisted, and I meant it. It was like fire licking my skin from the inside, my need for him. "I guess now's not the time to discuss this though, is it? I'm not exactly in a talking mood..."

"Me neither," he agreed, making the slightest hip movement to poke my belly gently. "I'm kinda too distracted to explain... I'd leave something important out, and then you'd feel like I tricked you into... Mmmmmmmmmm."

As he spoke, my hands decided to check how 'distracted' he was, and distracted him even more in the process. He didn't finish his thought, let alone manage to articulate it. I just grinned, wrapping my hands around him tightly, loving the delighted look on his face as I did.

He leaned down to kiss me once more, and I rose up on tip-toes to meet him. Time stood still again, the world shrinking to his lips and my lips and the sounds of me panting into his mouth and him whining into mine. His body was the whole world to me. I used my blunt human teeth to nibble at his neck, and he made a sound I'd never heard before, halfway between agony and relief. I pulled back to look at him, to check he was OK, and found his eyes half-closed, lost in sensation. I couldn't help grinning, because I loved having that effect on him. Then I found myself staring right at those plump, ripe-looking nipples, and my mouth had a new target.

I leaned into him again, gravitating to a large, brown peak, sucking on it gently to see how he'd react. It was then that I made a wonderful, unexpected discovery: his nipples were incredibly sensitive for a guy - almost as sensitive as mine - and coupled with that electric magic-tingle that shocked us both wherever our bodies touched, it made him react almost as strongly as I did when he did this to me. Every stroke, flick or circle of my tongue; every ounce of pressure from my teeth; every bit of suction from my mouth - he delighted in it all. How had it taken me so long to notice how sensitive his nipples were? It seemed like a huge oversight on my part, to never have tried this before. But my body was like the best buffet on earth to him, and he took such pleasure in tasting all its delights... it wasn't my fault that I spread myself out before him and invited him to feast on me, most times; we both loved it.

But for the moment, I was the one feasting, and he was the one being feasted on.

I looked up and he was staring down at me, his features contorted in bliss. His pupils were fully dilated so his eyes looked almost black, and he was biting his lip to keep from begging me for more. He was determined to let me explore at my own pace, because he'd seen me hesitate often enough to suspect I wasn't used to all this. He was right. Sure, I'd had sex before, plenty of times... but I'd usually felt kind of devoured in the process. This was something different, something mutual and equal and as much about my desires as his. (It was also, I'd just realized, a lot more fun than being swept along in someone else's fantasy.) But I could feel that he wanted my teeth clamping down on his nipple - one of the few things that registered almost as pain, for him - and the incredible trust that glowed in his eyes made me want to give him everything he could ever need. I didn't do it right away, though; I sucked and licked for a few more moments instead.

When I finally bit down, he groaned like he was dying and rested his head on mine, overwhelmed by the sensations I was creating for him. I alternated between circling around his nipple, then flicking across it, then biting down gently, loving the desperate sounds he made as I did.

"Good?" I teased, as I moved from one to the other again.

He nodded about ten times as he tried to collect his thoughts, but only managed to mutter, "Oh, god."

I giggled as I went to work on the other, repeating everything I'd just done, then biting down a little harder, then sucking for a while, then biting again... His hands were tangled in my hair, holding me to him, and he kept whimpering, "please," begging me to keep going, or do it harder, or... well, anything. As long as I kept touching him, he was in heaven. It was thrilling to please someone so much, and I reveled in every sound he made, delighting in his pleasure.

It was only when I went to push him back a step, that I realized where my hands had been the whole time: I had them both wrapped around his cock, squeezing as hard as I could, driven by that fairy instinct that still bubbled in the back of my brain, thinking _mine _every second I touched him.

"Oh, sorry," I blurted out, pulling my hands away. "I didn't realize I was... no wonder you sounded so into that... I didn't mean to... I guess I should..." I started to kneel down, figuring I owed him some kind of relief.

He stopped me halfway, his hands tucking under my arms so he could help me back to my feet. "You don't have to do that if you don't want to."

"But I got you all excited," I protested, "and I'm not ready for you to fuck me yet, so I should-"

"No," he stopped me, "you don't owe me anything. You don't have to fuck me, or suck me, or anything else, no matter what you've been doing."

"You mean I can just tease you, and not, um, not do anything about it?" It made no sense to me, that he would refuse a blowjob. What guy refused a blowjob?

He leaned down and murmured in my ear, "That wasn't teasing me. If you used your fairy powers to pin me to your bed, then rubbed your breasts all over my face, always moving away just before my mouth got to them... now _that_ would be teasing me." He was really excited by that idea, but I barely noticed.

"I'm not very good at that, am I?" I couldn't stop tears forming in my eyes. "That's why you don't want me to... I haven't had much practice and I suck."

"You," his voice was suddenly all husky again, "only suck in a really good way. And if that's what you're like with not much practice, hot damn I am a lucky man. I only stopped you because you said you thought you _should_ do that, and you had this look on your face like I was some chore you had to do... I don't like that."

At last, I understood exactly what he meant. "It's more fun when I'm really into it," I grinned. "You like it when I look at you like you're the best thing ever." I knew the difference between sex with someone who was into me and sex with someone who treated me like a chore - I'd learned all about it with Bill. To me, the former was about a thousand times better than the latter... but it hadn't previously occurred to me that he might feel the same way. I was really happy that he did.

"Exactly," he agreed, "so if you're gonna be happier biting my nipples and tugging on my cock again... well, I'll take one for the team." His attempt at looking like a martyr really wasn't working, for some reason.

He took my hands and guided them back to his crotch, watching my face to make sure I was OK with that. I was more than OK; this time, I was completely aware of what I was doing, and I liked that. My hands wrapped around him instinctively, earning a long, low groan. He had meant to guide my mouth back to his chest as well, but when I started gripping him possessively, every thought went out of his head. He was so, so ready for more, but I could 'hear' that he enjoyed taking things slow, too; he got a huge thrill out of watching me find my way around his body. If it took me a week of exploring before I let him come, he would spend the whole time in a delirious lust-haze, loving every second. I understood: it was great when things just kept on going, with no hurry to the finish line, just pleasure and more pleasure.

I felt so grateful to him for that. If you got a vampire all excited, you were gonna get jumped and bitten and basically ravaged, so I never dared start anything I wasn't sure I could finish. But I could feel that if I said I'd had enough, he'd just finish himself off, no harm no foul. I could play, and have fun, and let things lead wherever they might; I had no obligations here. Sure, I _wanted_ to satisfy him; I _wanted_ to watch him come... but if I stopped enjoying it, I could walk away at any time. I felt freer than I ever had, and my hands glided over his flesh, stroking and squeezing him.

"Mine," I growled unconsciously.

He chuckled and kissed my forehead. "Yes, yours," he agreed. "All yours. Not for anyone else any more."

I looked up at him in surprise, realizing what I'd just said, yet again. "You don't mind me being so possessive?" I puzzled. "I hate it when men get possessive."

He chuckled again, shaking his head. "I don't think it's a coincidence that the day we start talking about having kids together, is the day you get all insistent that I'm yours and no-one else's. You're making sure I'm worthy of fathering your babies, is all. Nothing wrong with that. The fierce maternal thing's actually kinda hot."

As soon as he said it, I knew he was right. I hadn't made the connection between the things we'd talked about that day and my overwhelming need to be sure he was mine, but as soon as he said it, it all made sense. When I was offering so much of myself to him, of course I needed to hear it. I could feel that he considered it a good thing, because it showed I was serious about having children with him, and that made me think my fairy instincts were leading me well.

I pulled him down to kiss me again me the moment he finished speaking, practically climbing his body to get to him. Something about the look in his eye as he said that made me ravenous. I wanted him inside me right that second, and I could feel that he wanted that, too. For a moment I wondered if that was normal for us to both get overwhelmingly horny when we talked about making babies... but considering that's exactly how babies got made, I figured it must be natural.

Our kisses kept getting deeper and more excited, and his hands found their way to the small of my back, where my top tied in a loose bow. He slowly pulled it undone, savoring the act of unwrapping me, then pulled his lips away from mine to pull my top over my head. He stopped to stare, then expertly undid my bra and slid it off. Every time I was topless in front of him, he paused to look at me, thinking _I am the luckiest man alive_ as his mouth watered. I loved that he did that; it was like he was taking time to be thankful for having me, every single time we were together.

But then he got a wicked look in his eye, and a split-second later, his hands were under my short denim skirt, pulling my panties off. In an instant, he had me perched on the edge of my kitchen table and his head was under my skirt. Then his tongue found its way to my tenderest places, making me moan. He usually took his time to taste me, but this time his fingers were inside me immediately, pushing and stretching and readying me as his mouth drove me mad. I leaned back onto my elbows, whimpering and bucking, wanting him to hurry.

"Please," I moaned. "Get me ready for your cock and then fuck me so hard, please John..." I was babbling. "Need you so much... please..."

He growled against me and I had to see him, had to look him in the eye as he pushed my body to those wonderful heights. I clicked my fingers and my skirt was gone, although I couldn't be sure if I'd re-materialized it somewhere, or just conjured it out of existence entirely. It didn't matter; I was looking into those deep purple eyes now, watching his tongue work me.

"Have to see you," I explained, because I could feel he was a little disappointed. (He spent the whole afternoon staring at my skirt, thinking of sliding his face under it like this, or pushing it up around my waist to fuck me, or bending me over, pulling my panties down and fingering me...)

He nodded ever-so-slightly, staring right into my eyes as I lost all sentience, his spare hand reaching up to torment my breasts. He had three fingers inside me now, and he was pushing them apart, coaxing my body to open for him as quickly as it could. The second he was done, he would be inside me, I was sure of it, and I wanted him so much, even his mouth seemed inadequate by comparison. I was panting between my delighted cries, so excited I could barely breath.

"Your cock," I pleaded, as he forced a fourth finger into me, stretching me almost open enough for him. "Please, please... your cock."

_Come for me_, he silently insisted. _Come all over my face and I will fuck you so hard, I will fuck you for hours, I will fuck you 'til we're chafed and exhausted, and you will scream and scream and scream for me._

"Yes," I panted. "Yes." Boy, did I love it when he talked dirty.

And then I exploded, milking his hand as my whole body trembled, pleasure coursing through me 'til I felt like I was gone, my mind lost to the feel of his mouth. I barely knew who I was, let alone where or how or what I was, but I knew I needed him, right that second.

"Now," I insisted, looking into his eyes again, but he just sucked gently, sending a wonderful aftershock crashing through me. "Please, now."

I reached for him and pulled him up for a kiss, knowing he would never deny me that. He stretched himself over my naked, sweaty body and smooched me 'til I shook, my legs around his hips, trying to push him into me. I was close to begging, I needed him so much, but he wasn't obliging me yet. Then he stood back up and started sucking his fingers, one at a time, cleaning them of my juices. I suddenly remembered he'd had four fingers inside me a moment ago - _four big wide strong fingers_ - and still, I hadn't felt nearly as full as I did when we fucked.

I sat up and reached for his cock, noticing for the first time that it made my hands look _tiny._ My right hand stroked his underside, and stretched right out underneath him, it was almost completely hidden. Oh, my. I wrapped my other hand around him, and my thumb didn't meet any of my fingers, no matter how hard I squeezed. I tried again with my palm underneath him, and there was about a half-inch gap. Oh, my. I stacked my hands one atop the other, wrapped around him, and they covered only his shaft; the head entirely protruding. He wasn't the longest I'd ever seen, but he was so, so wide. This was why he always took his time preparing me.

"The look on your face is priceless," he whispered in my ear, "like you can't decide whether to be excited or terrified."

"I didn't realize you were so big," I stammered. "You don't look that big." Then I realized that was a terrible thing to say to a guy. "You don't look small, honest, I-"

"It's OK," he laughed, "I know what you meant. I'm all in proportion. For a guy my size, I'm not over-endowed." He didn't mind saying that, because he really didn't want more than he had; he had to be careful not to hurt me as it was. "Compared to my body, this ain't big. Compared to your body, though..."

I looked back down at my hands, utterly dwarfed by the gorgeous man-meat inside them. Then I gave him a shy smile. "I've never seen one so wide before."

I 'heard' that he'd never seen one broader than his own, either. For a moment I was really disturbed by how many erect penises he'd seen; then I realized it was an occupational hazard: shifter events usually involved nudity and often sex as well, and they apparently shared that custom with fairies and witches, too. Vampires were the only Supes who didn't routinely have public sex as part of their ceremonies (but even they thought it was the best way to celebrate certain occasions).

I pulled him down to kiss me again, my other hand guiding the tip of him, gliding it through the puddle of moisture between my legs. I lined him up just right, trying to push him into me, but he was resisting. No matter how tightly I wrapped my legs around his hips, or how loudly I whimpered for him, he wasn't inside me yet. I was close to screaming, I needed him so much.

"Please," I begged. "Please fuck me. Now, please." I knew he liked hearing me ask for him, and if that didn't do it...

"God, I want you," he rasped, his eyes devouring me. "I'll just go get-"

"No," I growled. "Fuck me now. Just like this."

His eyes were like saucers, and I could feel how much willpower it took him not to do as I asked. "You wanna take that risk?" he checked.

"Yes," I whimpered. "Please..." I was writhing against him, making his tip rub my entrance, and it was driving us both completely mad.

"You're sure?"

I nodded about a dozen times, but still, he held back until I said it. "Certain. Need all of you. Need you so much it hurts." It was true; I ached for him so intensely it was painful, and my fairy instincts were screaming with want, and it felt so cruel that he was making me wait...

Hearing the desperation in my voice was all it took. He could feel that I meant every word of it; that my body was burning for him. He pressed in just enough to make me gasp, then lay me down on the table, kissing me so tenderly I melted. He took each of my hands in turn, lacing his fingers with mine, moving them so his hands were underneath so I wouldn't feel like he was holding me down. His lips stayed on mine the whole time, and then he slowly slid inside me, inch by wonderful inch, watching my eyes as he did. I was looking right back at him, but my eyes just wouldn't focus; every part of me was focused on the scorching heat of his body in mine, the feel of silky skin instead of slick rubber.

It always felt right to be with him, but this felt... more right. Perfect. The fullness, and the way my muscles stretched to take him, and that heat that was even hotter this time... it was heaven. He was taking his time, and the pleasure of it was just too much; overwhelming me completely even though we'd just begun. I didn't hear my own fevered moaning 'til after I came the first time; exploding as our bodies finally made contact and he ground against my clit, giving me that tiny bit of extra stimulation that made me tremble all around him. As my body milked his, my nails dug into his hands, just like he wanted. Finally, I went limp and my hands released his so my arms could flop on the table, my limbs all feeling like overcooked spaghetti.

"Thank you," I sighed. "This is so great... so right..."

My eyes finally focused then, and the look on his face undid me. He was beyond bliss, his eyes so full of love it was clear this meant everything to him. He was concentrating on me, thinking only of pleasing me, because underneath that were emotions too big to let himself feel them. He felt sure that if I really wanted out, I was powerful enough to shrug off the magic that bound us together as through it were nothing... but once he was the father of my children, he would be that to me forever. When he got me pregnant, we would be linked as co-creators of another life; something even my fairy magic couldn't undo. He was mine - loved me as he had never loved another, was utterly devoted to me, dreamed of making me happy - and this is how he would make me his. I couldn't help grinning at that thought.

I had to let him know that I felt the same. "I want that. I want to be yours. All yours."

He couldn't form words, but he 'told' me he would give me anything, that he was all mine. His arms slid under me, holding my body to his as he slowly started moving, kissing me deeply as he savored every second of what he felt sure was a 'trial run'.

Some deep instinct uncoiled itself inside me, demanding things I'd never wanted before. I looked at him and knew, beyond any doubt, that this was right; he was right; we were right. I took his scruff in one hand and tickled his lower back with the other, looking for a spot I instinctively knew would be there. When I found it, he arched against me, his cock pushing deeper into me as his head and shoulders pulled back so he could look at my face. When our eyes met, our panted breaths synchronized, and I could feel that he was close.

"So great," I whimpered. "More, please."

"Oh, babe," he gasped, moving harder and faster as he delighted in obliging me. Then he started crooning my name, over and over.

The fire that licked the inside of my skin was growing hotter, whiter, brighter, readying for explosion. Hearing me beg for him had him right on edge, and it was only the 'almost-but-not-quite-there' look on my face that slowed him down. He rocked me gently, pushing into me as deeply as he could, feeling my body tighten as my muscles readied to spasm. His eyes were locked to mine, and our bodies rubbed together as though skin-to-skin contact were everything. We both breathed raggedly, irregularly, but somehow still in time, as though the very air connected us. The whole room crackled with magic, and I knew that any moment now, it would be time.

The pleasure building in my belly reached its peak and the whole universe was his movement inside me, pushing me higher, higher... all the usual peaks were gone and we were somewhere else entirely, somewhere I hadn't known existed before. Sensation rolled through me, as though his tip were stroking my entire body from its inside, and I clung trembling to him, feeling my fuse burning down to its end. I was almost there, so close I could touch it, and he saw it on my face and started to let go. Knowing my craving was about to be sated made me scream with pleasure, as that explosion just began to blow me apart...

And then, at the worst possible moment, he was gone from me, out of me, spilling liquid on my belly as pleasureless spasms jerked my body, all that wonderful buildup ebbing away. I looked up at him and in his mind, he was within me, and that almost made it right for him. Not for me. I wanted him, all of him, and to have him abandon me at that very last second...

"What did you do that for?" I demanded, that fire under my skin turning to icy needles.

Then I burst into tears, unable to stop myself grieving some imaginary loss that felt all-too-real.


	34. Ready or not

"I'm really sorry," Quinn apologized for the third time. "You said you wanted to get pregnant in the next few years, not the next few minutes... I didn't realize you'd changed your mind, I thought you were just caught up in the moment... god, I'm sorry."

"I was," I admitted, finally starting to dry my tears. Why I _burst into tears_ over this, I still couldn't work out. My feelings were all over the place, these days. "I'm not sure I am ready yet, it just felt so right... I really wish you hadn't stopped."

I was still lying naked on my kitchen table, with him propped above me, but it didn't feel intimate any more; just kind of cold.

"If you're not ready yet, then it's better that I did." He half-expected me to slap him for saying it, but I was too shocked to.

"Why?" I demanded. "It was feeling so great, and if you hadn't-"

"I know, I know," he interrupted. "I heard you the first three times you said that, and I'm really sorry I messed it up for you. If I'd realized, I could've slowed down and lasted long enough, and-"

"You don't really want this, do you?" I snapped, sitting up abruptly so he had to move back. "You like the idea, but you're not really ready to-"

"I'm ready." There was so much pain in his voice and his thoughts that my anger just melted away.

"Then why?" I asked more gently, my fingers tracing the side of his face.

He was too upset to speak for a moment, and I started to sense what the problem was. "If we did that," he began, "and you got pregnant, and you weren't ready yet, and you got rid of it... that would be really hard for me." That was a massive understatement; what he really meant was, he would be devastated and heart-broken, because he really, really wanted to have a child with me. If we had that chance and I took it away from him, he knew he'd be angry with me, despite his belief that I shouldn't have to go through everything it took for a woman's body to create a child if I didn't want to.

"I wouldn't do that," I promised. "Not when we're already planning to get married and have kids together... not when I have enough money to feed and clothe another person, and I know I'll be an OK parent, and you'll be here to help me take care of it... not when I have the option to keep it."

"Oh." Relief was radiating from him as he sat down beside me and hugged me again. He was trying to find the words to tell me how glad he was, but ended up kissing me instead - and it wasn't a 'sorry' kiss, this time; it was an 'I'm madly in love with you and want to spend my whole life with you' kiss. _Much_ better. "I won't try to make this happen before you're ready, but if it happens by accident, you'll have it?"

"Of course!" Then I realized that wasn't entirely true. "Well, if there was something so wrong with it that it wasn't going to live regardless, or would only live for a year or two and be in horrible pain the whole time... I'd think it was kinder, then..."

"Me too," he agreed. "Or if having it might kill you..."

"I'd probably take the risk," I admitted.

"I wouldn't want you to. If we had to choose, I'd rather keep you... and I wouldn't want any child growing up knowing they killed their mother."

"Oh, I hadn't thought of that! Yeah, that kind of changes things, thinking what it would do to the child..."

He gave me a big, genuine smile.

I wasn't ready to smile yet, though. "Um, if I wasn't sure it was yours, I'd probably get rid of it then, too. I don't think I'd choose to have sex with anyone else, so it would only be if someone forced me, or I got so drunk I didn't know what I was doing..."

"If you're so drunk you don't know what you're doing, you're not in a fit state to consent, so it's the same," he rambled. "That's the law in most places. Otherwise, men would go around spiking people's drinks so they could insist, 'it wasn't rape, they didn't say no or fight me off at all', and it'd be true 'cos the other person was unconscious... although that does still happen a lot." He realized he'd gotten off-topic then, and turned his attention back to what I was saying. "If that happened to you, I would be fine with whatever you chose. I wouldn't ask you to get rid of it, and I wouldn't say you ought to keep it... I'd just go with whatever you decided was going to be best for you. It's not an easy choice to make, figuring out whether to keep it because it's yours, or get rid of it because it also came from someone you hate. And if you wanted to know for sure if it was mine or not before you did anything, I'm pretty sure you could get a test done."

I nodded, thinking that if I were ever in that awful situation, I would really want to know. "So that's the only problem? You weren't sure I was ready?"

"Yeah. I don't think I could handle it if you weren't, so I won't put you in that position."

"If it would upset you so much if I did that, you could just ask me not to," I pointed out.

He shook his head. "Having kids you're not sure you want is a really bad idea." He sounded almost bitter, and I 'heard' this had something to do with his sister: their mother treated her very differently to the way she treated him, the child she actually wanted. "Besides, it's too much to ask another person to do for you, having your body create a child and give birth to it... and it's so much healthier to breast feed, if you can, so there's that as well... and then there's the whole eighteen or so years of parental responsibility. That part's shared, at least, but the rest... only you can do it, and it's a huge thing to do, so you should make the call on that."

I wasn't sure I agreed with him. "Men should have a say in whether they become fathers, too."

"Men have plenty of say," he shrugged. "We control just as much of the process as women do, really, just different parts... I could choose not to have sex with you at all, or to only do things that can't make you pregnant, or to use protection, or to always pull out in time, although that's really not the best way. If I didn't want to have kids with you, I wouldn't do what we just did, not even at this time of the month."

"This time of the month?"

"You were fertile three days ago, so unless you ovulate a second time-" He saw my look of alarm and stopped mid-sentence. "Sorry, it's a tiger thing, being able to smell a woman's pheromones and know where she's at in her cycle... and I guess a bit of a bad habit, taking notice of that... my Mom wasn't always sensible about these things, and my sister seems to have inherited that from her, so I'm used to monitoring." He rolled his eyes; for some reason, he found it frustrating that eighteen year old him had to remind his Mom's fifty-some year old boyfriend to use condoms. I 'heard' that he'd been really relieved when someone came up with a version of the monthly contraceptive injection human women can get that actually works for shifters, and his Mom agreed to have a shot each month. He was even more relieved when she went through menopause... but then two years later, his sister got her period. "I'll try to ignore it, if you don't want me knowing?"

I thought about it for a moment. "No, this could be really useful," I decided. Then something occurred to me. "Three days ago... that's when-"

"Yeah," he interrupted, "but I won't mess things up like that every month. It does effect me, the way you smell then, but that night was because I hadn't been with anyone for so long, and being near you every day, and I misunderstood what you were asking me for... Your pheromones weren't the main cause of what happened."

That much was a relief, but I still felt weird about this. "The way I smell then," I asked tentatively, "is it good? Or are you just attracted by the pheromones, in spite of-"

"You smell incredible." He had a dreamy look on his face, remembering the distinctive aroma that told him I was ovulating. "Most women smell good when they're fertile, but you smell wonderful all the time, so when you're in season... mmmm, it's just heavenly. That scent... I just wanna roll in it, and rub against you 'til I'm drenched in it, and then never wash again. It's so, so great." He was practically drooling.

"Does it make you out of control?" I was worried, because he seemed almost intoxicated by it - like vampires were by my blood.

"Not in the sense that I think you mean. My tiger instincts tell me to follow you everywhere and look for signs you're ready to mate, so it would be hard to stay away from you, once I'd caught a whiff of it. Even smelling the changes beforehand makes me want to be right next to you all the time. If I had to stay away from you, I'd manage, but it'd be torture. But when I'm near you then, I get all cuddly, more than anything else. Well, right up to the point when you tell me you want sex; then I'm suddenly very active again," he chuckled. "The only real danger is if someone tried to take you from me or make me leave you. I would literally fight to the death to stop them. The pheromones interfere with my sense of picking my battles and knowing when to quit, when my mate's involved."

"What if I wanted to leave? Or wanted you to leave?"

"Growl and hiss at me, if you have to," he offered. "I'll get the message. Nobody's in the mood every moment of every day."

I giggled at that, because I could think of one exception to that rule. "What about you?"

"I'm only like this all the time because you're around. Being wanted by a beautiful woman is just the biggest turn-on..." His voice was husky, his face was so close mine to mine I could feel his breath, and he was playing with my hair as he spoke.

"And if I ovulated three days ago, that means I'm safe now, doesn't it? We can do anything at all, and I won't get pregnant, 'cos the egg's gone already?"

"It's not quite that simple," he apologized, moving back a few inches and looking serious again. "It should be the safest time of the month, but occasionally women ovulate a second time, and it seems to happen more often if you've got a new partner and you're having lots of sex, so there's still some risk there. And that's for human anatomy, without the extras you've got... and we're assuming fairy eggs only last as long as human ones, but you're stronger in so many other ways that-"

"Extras?" I suddenly felt really alarmed.

"I was wondering if you knew... I guess that's a no?" He sounded almost sheepish, asking me that.

"Know what?" My heart started pounding in my chest, and I was pretty sure I didn't want to hang around to hear this.

"Hey, it's nothing to worry about," he soothed, kissing my forehead to calm me down. "It just feels like you might have a couple of things that humans don't, is all. Extras that aren't ordinary." He was repeating something I'd said once, to remind me that having a few 'extras' wasn't all bad. "I don't even know for sure, you'd have to get Dr. Ludwig to check to be certain."

I couldn't explain why I felt like crying again, but I did. "What do you think I might have?"

His first instinct was to comfort me, but a split-second later, he realized I was only upset because I didn't know, and that making me wait was just prolonging the agony. He was right. "Fairies have different reproductive parts to humans, and I'm pretty sure I felt the entrances to a couple of little storage pouches, inside you..."

It seemed like he thought I'd know what that mean, but I didn't. "To store what?" I was really puzzled by the whole idea.

"Sperm," he explained. "Fairies have these storage pouches that can keep sperm alive for decades. So they can have sex with someone, then store it until they're ready to use it, even if it's a long time later. And you've definitely got the extra muscles that kinda... move it there... and you've got two little inlets in the spots where the pouches would open... so chances are, you've got the little storage pouches as well."

"How weird!" was my first reaction.

"Not really," he shrugged. "Lots of animals store sperm. Birds, lizards, a lot of marsupials... not so many mammals, but bats, hares and mice do... Plus every kind of fae, and most of the demon species. It's handy... you don't have to be near your mate when you're fertile, you can try out a few and use the genes of the best one to make your kids, and if there's a famine or whatever, you can wait 'til the timing's better."

"So you're saying fairies can make that choice?"

"Yeah. But I've heard it can happen unconsciously sometimes, so you might have kids with someone you had sex with a long time ago, even if you didn't mean to... if your body decides their genes are the best on offer when you're ready to become a parent..." he trailed off then, and I could feel he didn't want to bring something up with me, but felt like he had to. "That's probably why Niall did what he did," he added softly.

It took a few moments to work out what he meant, but when it did, I was furious. "How dare he! Make me have that fairy's kids instead of yours... didn't he think I'd notice when my babies turned out half-fairy instead of half-shifter? That no-good, interfering pest! If I ever see him again..." I growled.

He didn't say a word, but I clearly 'heard' him think, _get in line_.

Then I realized that in one way, this might actually be helpful. "This is really gonna mess up the King's plans, isn't it?"

"Yeah," his eyebrows shot up in surprise. Then he thought of something else. "When did you meet de Castro? Was it before or after Niall sent-"

"Before," I interrupted, not wanting him to finish that sentence. "A few weeks before."

"So if he caught wind of the King's plans for you..."

My jaw literally dropped. "_That's_ his solution? Not stop the King from taking me... not stop him from making me breed... just get some random fairy's sperm into me, so I have half-fairy kids instead. That the vamps will probably eat. Fucking brilliant plan."

"Even Niall wouldn't walk into a vampire King's compound," Quinn apologized. "Maybe this was the best he could do."

I just glared. If this was the best 'help' Niall could offer me, I would rather have had no help at all.


	35. Insurance

"Niall probably thought he was doing you a favor," Quinn speculated, still trying to make me feel better, "making sure there's enough fairy blood in the next generation that your abilities are preserved."

We were both sitting on my kitchen table, completely naked, but there was nothing sexy about the situation.

"But I don't want that!" I protested. "I wouldn't wish telepathy on anyone! If I was sure my kids would inherit it, I wouldn't have kids at all!"

"Hey," he soothed, "there's no need to worry about that. You told me Niall said it's not a fairy thing, so I asked Fielding about it, and he said telepaths are usually god-touched, and gifts like that only surface once per generation, so-"

"So Hunter's it," I finished.

"Exactly."

"So my kids won't be telepaths? Oh, thank God!" I was so relieved I kissed him. "I can have kids, and not worry..." Then it almost seemed too good to be true. "Are you sure?" I asked suspiciously.

"No," he answered honestly, "but Fielding's right 90% of the time, at least. He's one of those rare scholars who has the knack of translating some ancient text and knowing which parts are true, which parts are allegorical, and which are just BS. He sure doesn't keep his job by being good with clients." His eyes twinkled as he said it, and I caught some brief flashes of his business partner giving clients patronizing lectures about various things... and once, shifting into cranky-stallion form in the middle of a Were bonding ceremony to kick a pack member who wasn't doing his job well enough.

"But Niall would know that, right? So what abilities is he trying to preserve?"

"Your fairy powers," he reminded me.

I mulled over it for a moment, then realized he was probably right. Then I remembered, "The King thinks breeding Barry and I would work."

"Perhaps." He thought of his boss's comment. "If he does, that's understandable. The gods haven't walked this world for a long time, so nobody knows much about them any more. Fielding spent weeks researching it before he got any real answers. He thinks most families with a gift like yours don't fully manifest it any more, they just have a stronger empathic sense, or something like that. He's convinced your gift's only as strong as it is because of your fairy blood. That makes sense, because Barry doesn't smell fully human either."

"What does Barry smell like?"

"If I had to guess, I'd say he's got a trace of demon in there."

"So it would be a really bad idea for he and I to breed," I guessed. "Because of that 'mixing of magics' thing?"

"Yeah! I hadn't thought of that, but yeah, it'd be disastrous. Barry's only got a trace of demon blood, if that, so having his child shouldn't kill you, but it would make you really sick. You sure wouldn't get all glow-y and serene like pregnant fairies usually-" Then he interrupted himself, as he thought of something else. "Maybe that's why Niall did it, so you couldn't have kids with an incompatible mate. Your body would always pick the fairy instead, so you'd have kids when you expected to, and if you really didn't know they didn't belong to-"

"But that's the part I hate!" I snapped. "The not-knowing. _Everyone_ uses that against me! Stupid Sookie doesn't know anything about Supes, so I can be tricked into giving up my life, my freedom, my blood, my virginity and whatever else anyone feels like taking from me! I'm so sick of it, I swear the next person who does that-"

"I'm trying really hard not to," he apologized. "Any time I think of something you need to know, I tell you the first good chance I get. But I don't know everything you don't know, and if I miss anything-"

"I know," I smiled, touching a finger to his lip to quiet him. "I didn't mean you."

He looked relieved for a moment, then started getting interested in the finger against his lips, playfully sliding his tongue across so it brushed my fingertip.

I jerked my hand away. "I feel really wrong. If that fairy's still got... stuff... inside me... ew." I screwed up my face in disgust. "I don't think I wanna have sex ever again, if it might result in... that."

"OK," he accepted, backing off right away. He didn't like the 'ever again' part, but he understood why I'd feel violated, knowing the fairy Niall sent to magic me into having sex with him could still get me pregnant, and he figured that if I needed space, he should respect that. Then it crossed his mind that I wouldn't feel that way if he hadn't told me, so it was really his mentioning it that upset me, and he wondered if it was the right thing to do. Before I could glare at him for even contemplating keeping this from me, he realized I'd feel a lot worse if I had an unexpected half-fairy child, and figured I had a right to know something that might effect me so drastically. Then he went into 'guy mode', trying to figure out a way to fix this for me. His first couple of ideas were really bad, but then...

"Do you think that'll work?" I asked eagerly, as soon as the third idea formed in his mind.

"I don't know, but it's gotta be worth a try," he grinned, pleased he was able to help somehow. "Assuming you're not likely to hurt yourself, if you get it wrong?"

"I'm not quite sure where I'm aiming," I admitted. "I didn't know I had weird storage pouch things, and I still don't know where they are..."

"They're above your cervix, on either side, at the very top of your vagina," he explained matter-of-factly. He talked about this stuff with the same amount of self-consciousness he talked about the weather: exactly zero. He really wasn't embarrassed about sex; hadn't been brought up to even consider it private.

I screwed up my face again, trying to work that out. "Isn't the cervix at the top?" That's what the diagrams in high school looked like...

"No, it's near the top, but not quite. It's on the front wall, just a little way down, and then the two openings are above that, up and-"

It still wasn't making sense to me. "Show me?"

He stared intently at my belly, going through an involved set of calculations, figuring out exactly where each of my internal organs would be, right now. I hadn't even known they _moved_, and when I thought about that for a second, I felt really stupid. I should've figured it out, considering how big certain body parts of certain men were, and how they each fit perfectly (some with more coaxing than others, but still, they all fit just-right in the end) even though at other times, a single finger would be snugly encased there... I'd worked out that things were stretchy, at least, but it just hadn't occurred to me that anything around there would have to move as well, to make room. Oops.

"Um, I meant you could show me in the hands-on sense," I murmured shyly. "Knowing where things are by feel is more helpful, for this."

"Oh," he grinned, standing up to face me. "That's a bit easier, then."

He kissed me for a minute, making sure I was relaxed, not tense, to be sure this wouldn't hurt me. He gently pushed me backwards as he did, so I wound up propped on my elbows. Then he slowly slid down my body, kissing and nipping his way along, 'til he was kneeling between my legs. Oh, boy. Tense, I sure wasn't. He planted a long, tender kiss on my other lips, right above the magic button, making me even more relaxed. Then his hands went to work. As he slid a single finger inside me, his other hand stroked my cleft in a way that was somehow gentle and sweet, rather than overtly stimulating. His finger explored for a few moments, and then he found what he was looking for; first on one side, then immediately opposite on the other. He placed his free hand on my belly, and after a couple of gentle presses, he'd aligned a fingertip so it was exactly above that spot inside me.

"The opening's right there," he lightly pressed the spot inside me. "And the other one's here," he lightly pressed a second spot.

"OK," I nodded, trying to concentrate. "Can you keep your fingertip on the first one for a second?"

He did as I asked. It didn't hurt when he pressed there, but it wasn't exactly pleasurable, either, so I was able to focus my attention in a way I usually couldn't, when his fingers were inside me. I moved my awareness inwards, just as Amelia had taught me, focusing on the tip of his finger. In a few seconds, I could feel exactly where it was. Then I could feel an opening there, about the size of a pin-head. I was amazed he'd actually found it, when it was so tiny; his big, meaty hands were much more sensitive than they looked. Then I followed the tiny tube along, where it quickly opened into a little chamber, and in there... ew. His suspicions were right; it was full of that goddam fairy's sperm, just waiting to get me unexpectedly pregnant. No way was I gonna let that happen.

"Found it," I reported.

"Are you sure you should do this? If this was Niall's plan to stop the King-"

"Then I should re-fill 'em right away," I concluded, "with someone I'd actually want to breed with. And since there's only one person I wanna breed with-"

"Well, if I have to." He was giving me a cheeky look, but his mind was saying, _oh, hell yes_.

I concentrated again, wanting to get that stuff out of me as quickly as possible. It felt so wrong that it was still there; more wrong than it felt when I woke up on Boxing Day, wondering what the heck I'd been thinking the last two days - why I'd done so many out-of-character things, why I couldn't quite remember the details of what happened, why I had such a vicious hangover when I hadn't been drinking... It felt so wrong that all this time, part of that fairy had still been inside me, waiting to spring an especially nasty surprise. That Niall hadn't bothered to mention it... I felt my hands start sparking with fury. I channeled my rage carefully, focusing on what I wanted gone. Then, _pop!_ it was. I teleported it out of my body, then conjured it out of existence before it could re-appear in this world.

"OK, other one," I instructed grimly.

He did exactly as I asked, moving his finger to the entrance to the other weird little sac thing. This time, it was easier to find and follow, since I knew what I was looking for. Thankfully, this one was almost empty. One quick _pop!_ and it was all gone, just like that.

"Done," I smiled down at my boyfriend. "Thank you. I wouldn't have even known that was there, if you hadn't-"

"I figured it out almost two days ago," he confessed, withdrawing his hand and standing again. "I wanted to find the right moment to mention it, but-"

"It's alright." I meant it. "If you'd sprung that on me over breakfast, or something, I would've completely freaked out. Besides, being with someone who tells me stuff within a couple days of knowing about it themselves seems great to me, y'know?"

"I really don't like being compared to your exes," he shook his head. "Treating you better than they did ain't much of a recommendation."

"It still seems great to me. Anyway, aren't you forgetting the second part of my plan?" I winked at him, and he unconsciously stuck his finger in his mouth to lick it clean - the one that had been inside me, mere moments beforehand.

He figured out what I meant a moment later. "Oh! You want me to...?" He suddenly couldn't think of a delicate way to describe it. "Now?"

"Well, you could kiss me a bit first," I teased. Lack of foreplay really wasn't his problem; he wouldn't assume I wanted more 'til I literally begged.

He broke into a huge smile. "Boy, am I glad you've changed your mind about what you said a few minutes ago."

I was about to tell him that I meant it when I said it but since we'd fixed the problem, it was OK now. But when I opened my mouth to speak, his lips were suddenly on mine, kissing me deeply. As he did, he tried to lay me down on the table again, but I didn't let him this time. I had something else in mind.

"Sit," I ordered, patting the table beside me.

He gave me a curious look, and I 'heard' him wonder what I was up to. Then he figured that whatever it was, it was bound to be great, so he did as I asked. As soon as he was sitting next to me, I wrapped one arm around his neck, and tried to swing my far leg over him. I had to get my other knee on the table, too, and that was proving to be more awkward than I expected. After a few seconds struggling by myself, I projected an image of what I was trying to do. He immediately picked me up and placed me right where I wanted to be: sitting in his lap, facing him.

"You're not getting away from me this time," I whispered in his ear, in my best imitation of an evil seductive super-villainess' voice.

"Mmmm, I hope not," he grinned.

I kissed him hard, pushing him back onto the table so I could be on top. Apparently my jumping him like this was about the biggest turn-on ever, because by the time my hand found its way into his lap, he was already rock-hard. Perfect. I didn't take my lips from his for a second, just placed him where I wanted and slid back until he was a little way inside me, moaning as I did. Darn, it felt good. I was still relaxed and wet from before, but he was so, so big... without all the usual preliminaries, it was his cock slowly stretching me open now. Yum.

"So great," I murmured into his mouth, as I kept gradually pushing more and more of him into me while his hands teased my nipples.

"Doesn't that hurt your knees?" He was thinking that the hard table wasn't a great surface to kneel on.

"Not enough to stop me."

He somehow managed to roll his eyes and shake his head at me, without his lips ever really leaving mine - and then he did something completely unexpected. He lifted my knee and slid his forearm under it, letting me use his hand and arm as padding under my leg. Then he did the same on the other side. I was so stunned I stopped moving for a moment, just sitting there with his cock all the way inside me.

"Doesn't that hurt your arms?" I wondered aloud.

He flashed a cheeky smile at me, and I could 'hear' that his pain threshold was so high he wasn't remotely bothered by the pressure of my weight resting on his forearms. But what he actually _said_ was, "I can't tell while you're sitting still like that. You should move some more, so I can figure it out." He was trying to look serious, but it just wasn't working.

I giggled for a moment, then did as he asked, rubbing my clit against him as I rocked him in and out of me. Then I realized that with his forearms under my knees, he was completely pinned down. Sure, he was strong enough to escape if he wanted to... but he really didn't want to. I could have a lot of fun with this. I kissed him once more, then sat right up so he could watch me ride him.

"Mmmm, your cock feels so great inside me," I purred. I knew that hearing me talk dirty was a huge turn-on for him, and the ravenous look on his face would've told me I was driving him wild, even if I wasn't telepathic. "I'm gonna come so hard... all I need, is someone to play with my breasts while I fuck you."

He tried to move his arms out from under my knees to oblige me, but I pushed down harder, and he suddenly knew what I was up to. I slid my hands up to my breasts, cupping and massaging as he watched me, mouth open, eyes dark. I 'heard' him realize there was absolutely no way he could look away from me now. Then my fingers found my nipples, and I couldn't form coherent thoughts for a while, as I tormented them in every way I could. I rode him harder and faster as I got louder and louder, pleasuring myself with my hands and his cock as he watched helplessly, desperate to touch me but completely unable to. Then, when I was almost there, I reached down and pushed my lips even further apart, so I could grind my clit right against him.

"Oh god," I gasped.

He was bucking underneath me, fucking me as much as he could while I pinned him to the table, only just resisting the urge to flip me over and pound me.

"Oh, yes. Oh god yes." I had one nipple squeezed hard between my thumb and the side of my hand, while my fingers reached over to play with the other. "Harder, harder," I begged, and he worked every muscle in his body, thrusting up into me. "Oh, yes! Oh, fuck yes. Oh god... oh god..."

Then my eyes were closed, and I was screaming and trembling, feeling like I was flying and drowning at the same time, so full of him I couldn't think of anything else. "Oh, oh," I whimpered, falling forward onto him.

He tried to slide a hand out from under my knee again, wanting to stroke me, but I pressed down harder and he got the message.

"God, you're beautiful," he whispered, stroking me with his words instead. "I love you so much."

"Love you too," I mumbled, rubbing my face against his collar bone and my chest against his.

He stretched his neck out, offering me the scar I'd left there, and my lips were on it instantly.

"All mine," I crooned as I kissed each and every tooth mark. "All mine."

He didn't answer, just rumbled beneath me, purring at my possessiveness. I didn't realize I was fucking him again 'til I was done with his neck, and by then, I was too far gone to stop. Not that he minded.

"Next time I come," I whispered in his ear, talking dirty again, "I want you licking my nipples. Or maybe sucking them. God, it feels so good when you suck them..."

He wriggled for a couple of seconds, and then he was propped on his elbows with his hands under my knees, already kissing the tops of my breasts. All I had to do was stretch forward, and his mouth would be right where I wanted it... but first, I was going to have some more fun with him.

I started swaying my whole body as I fucked him, making my breasts rub against his face. But every time his tongue got close to a nipple, I abruptly moved it out of his reach. At first, he thought I was too focused on riding him to stay still, but by the third time it happened, he knew I was up to no good. He looked up at me, and when he saw the naughty look on my face, I felt a thrill roll through him. He'd told me he liked to be teased a few minutes ago, and already, I was doing it.

"Something you wanted?" I asked innocently.

He moved his mouth towards my nipple again, staring into my eyes the whole time. When he was almost there, he whispered, "please?" I almost let him lick it, but at the very last moment, I moved my chest back as I slammed down onto his cock again. We played that game for a few minutes, his begging getting more intense every time I teased him. The desperation in his voice was making me so wet, I had to squeeze him tight to get any friction at all. It was so, so hot to hear him sound that hungry for me. When I finally relented and let him lick my left nipple, he was so delighted he almost came inside me, right that second. But he saw me enjoying the hot, wet, rough feel of his tongue, and held back so he could give me more, more, more...

But I couldn't keep going much longer; the fucking, and the teasing, and his prickly tongue on my tender nipple... the pleasure was almost too much. I pushed my breasts together and shoved both nipples into his mouth, surprising him with my sudden aggression.

"Suck them hard," I growled, and he did exactly as I ordered - except he was rubbing his rough tongue against them both, too. "Oh god," I gasped.

He bit down gently, and I had it all: mouth, tongue, teeth... enough to excite me almost to orgasm, even if I wasn't riding his cock. But I was, and it was great. So, so great. I held his head to my chest with one hand, then pressed the other against the tabletop, taking my weight so I could move harder, faster. He couldn't thrust up into me much this time, so I was doing all the work, but that was even better. I had complete control over both our bodies, the movement of my hips pushing us both closer, closer...

"Come with me this time," I whispered, looking down into his eyes. "I'm so close... I'm gonna come so hard."

He was whining loudly, his eyes scrunching closed because the look on my face was almost making him lose it - but that was what I wanted.

"Look at me," I snapped, and he did, silently telling me, _can't hold on, can't hold on, oh god, gonna come now, sor-_ "That's what I want," I interrupted him, knowing from the tingling that was spreading from my belly down my legs that if I was going to say what I wanted to say, it had to be right now. "That was the plan, remember? You come inside me, and fill up those pouch thingies, and every child I ever have will be yours. Oh, god."

Hearing me say it made him explode instantly, so I was suddenly hotter, and wetter, and a moment later my muscles were milking him for everything they could get. It was wonderful, the pleasure of it all, his and mine both filling my mind, like a carefully synchronized fireworks display. My whole body shook, and then at last I was limp and sated, my fairy instincts finally leaving me in peace.

I don't know how long I stayed in that floaty, delighted post-orgasmic haze, but he was right there with me for every second. By the time I could think again, his arms were wrapped tightly around me, and my hands were tucked under his shoulders so I could cling to him. I was murmuring half-formed words, trying to say I loved him and needed him and wanted to be with him always, just like this. He nibbled on the side of my neck, day-dreaming about marking me, about making me his forever.

"I'm so glad we did that," I finally managed to say, many minutes later.

He smiled and whispered, "Me too."

We were both thinking the same thing: this was my insurance policy. We would both do our best to keep me safe, but no matter what the King succeeded in doing, his scheme would fail. I would have only Quinn's children, nobody else's; I had a few million of his sperm stored inside my body now. No matter what anyone did to me, they couldn't change that. I was already drifting off when he moved us both into my bedroom, to curl around each other and sleep soundly, safe in the knowledge that in this one vital way, I could never be forced.


	36. Friends

"Higher, Aunt Sookie, higher!" the little girl squealed.

I did as she asked, pushing harder against her back so she swung higher into the air. Her long, straight dark hair fluttered behind her in a glossy stream. After three pushes, she was laughing delightedly, so I took a step over to push her friend instead. The two girls were exactly the same age, born mere days apart, but the dark-haired girl was almost twice the height of her blond cousin, who had a halo of loose ringlets. They weighed about the same though: where one was so slender she looked like she might break, the other was stocky and strong.

"Thanks, Aunt Sookie," the blond girl smiled, when I gave her a gentle push.

She was in the 'baby swing' - the one with a backrest and a chain that clipped across the front, so she couldn't fall out of it - but she was still scared of being pushed too high. Her cousin had no such fear, so after a couple of light pats on the blond girl's back, I went back to pushing her cousin again. The higher I pushed her, the harder they both laughed; the timid blond girl taking vicarious pleasure in her friend's adventures. That was their way.

It seemed weird that I couldn't remember their names, these two little girls. They were my kin, I could feel that: the blond girl a close relative; the dark-haired one a more distant cousin. It didn't even feel like I'd forgotten; it was like we'd never been introduced. But I knew everything about them: that they were best friends and practically inseparable; that they both preferred being outdoors in the sunlight to playing with dolls or any of the other standard 'girl' activities; that neither had a pet yet, although they were both pestering for one incessantly; that their Moms had developed a grudging acceptance of one another because their daughters were so close.

I gave the blond girl one more light push, and her friend a half-dozen more enthusiastic ones, so they were both swinging at their preferred height. Then I wandered over to their mothers, who were sitting at the picnic table a few yards away.

"She's so glad to see you," Claudine told me.

Claudine looked really well, and I told her so. Crystal, not so much. She was chain-smoking, as always, and even though it shouldn't make any difference here, the smoke somehow dulled her skin, settling dirtily in her hair and on her clothes. No wonder Claudine always sat at the far opposite end of the table; she was knitting her daughter an intricate lacy sweater from some sparkling gossamer yarn, and dirtying it with cigarette smoke would spoil all her beautiful work.

"I've missed you so much," I gushed to my cousin, sitting down beside her. "Both of you," I added, trying to include Crystal.

Crystal glared and rolled her eyes at me, taking another long drag on her cigarette. "About time you got here."

"Oh, she won't be staying," Claudine corrected. "She's needed elsewhere. Aren't you, Sookie?"

"I guess so." I didn't want to go, but I could feel something pulling me away from them.

"That way," Claudine gestured, as though she could sense it was time for me to leave, just as I could.

I hugged her, bid them both farewell, then started walking along the path Claudine had pointed to. It led away from this sunny lawn into the nearby woods, which quickly blocked the sun. I didn't like that.

When I reached the edge of the woods, I turned to wave goodbye to my two little nieces. I felt so sad to be leaving them - I could feel that I wouldn't see them again for a long time, and they'd both be adults by then - but that feeling of being pulled away from here was getting stronger by the second. I turned and stepped into the deep shadows, walking briskly.

About a hundred yards along the path, a wolf emerged from behind a tree, trotting directly toward me. He moved steadily, standing tall with his tail held straight out behind him, and as he came to walk beside me, I realized that I knew him.

"Hi, Tray," I greeted him, and he whined 'hello' right back.

How I knew it was him, I wasn't sure. I hadn't 'heard' a thing from anyone here, so far: every single mind was quiet to me. It was so wonderful, to be in a place where I was completely normal. I wanted to ignore the strong pull that was leading me away, but somehow I couldn't.

"Amelia misses you," I told him, but his attention was elsewhere.

I noticed then that he wasn't the only animal here: the shiny, beady eyes of a fox stared out of the deep forest shadows, and somehow, I could feel that this one meant me harm. When Tray froze in place, I did too, standing behind him. It was Debbie Pelt. She had hated me so much, even before I killed her, and I didn't think she'd let me pass. But Tray started snarling and edging towards her, still with the steady, tall movements of a confident wolf. Wolves could and did kill foxes, I knew that, but Debbie held her ground.

Then she was gone, taking off through the underbrush so quickly I could barely follow her. In a matter of seconds, she had disappeared. Tray seemed pleased. I was just relieved.

"I really have to go, don't I?" I asked him, feeling that pull away from here even more strongly now.

He stared at me for a moment, then nodded and started jogging ahead. I struggled to keep up, running behind him. Another wolf was watching us - stalking us - but Tray didn't seem concerned. I recognized this one, too: Jerry Falcon. I had seen him only twice before: once in Josephine's, and once in Alcide's hall closet, after Bubba killed him. I couldn't recall ever seeing him in wolf form before, and I barely saw a glance of him here and there as he silently followed us, but I was certain it was him. I was just about to call out to Tray, to tell him we're being followed and ask what we should do, when suddenly, we burst out of the woods, into another bright clearing.

This clearing was different to the one where I met Claudine, Crystal and my young nieces. The place where they spent their days could pass for any regular neighborhood park, with an overgrown lawn, basic play equipment and seating, plus a few odd plants left mostly to their own devices. This park didn't belong in any neighborhood I'd ever lived, and even the wealthiest areas of New Orleans didn't have public parks like this, although some of the fanciest private gardens (which I'd only glanced through the gaps in high fences) were similar, albeit smaller. This garden was carefully planned, landscaped and tended, with at least one full-time gardener: plants didn't trim themselves into those smooth, elegant shapes.

I heard that gloppy, popping sound shifters make when they change form and spun on my heel, just in time to see Tray finish transforming.

He was, of course, completely naked, but seeing people naked just didn't bother me as much as it used to. Being mated to a shifter had changed my ideas about nudity; Quinn felt no more naked in bare human skin than he did with a full pelt of tiger fur, and wearing boxers around the house felt like more than enough concession to human customs, to him. He had this theory that most human anxiety was caused by over-use of clothes: people hid their figures and only saw airbrushed media images of what bare bodies were 'meant' to look like, so even people with fantastic bodies thought themselves freakishly ugly - especially women. (For men, all that anxiety was concentrated on the groin, so the size, shape and performance of those parts were vital to the human male ego.) There was no danger of my boyfriend over-using clothes: he would strip off at any excuse. I couldn't say I _minded_ seeing him almost-naked so much of the time.

Among the many benefits of my mate's frequent nudity, it made it much easier not to stare at other naked people: Tray was tall and barrel-chested, and if I'd been in the midst of one of my usual sexual droughts, it would've been hard not to drool at all that bare male flesh... but compared to Quinn, he was nothing to stare at. (_Sorry, Amelia_, I thought to myself.) So my mind stayed almost entirely on the subject at hand.

"This is as far as I can take you," Tray told me.

"Oh," I complained. "We have to say goodbye here?"

"Yeah, I'm not so welcome in these parts."

I nodded, somehow knowing that was true. "Thank you," I whispered, "for everything." Then I threw my arms around him, squeezing him tight.

Behind me, a woman cleared her throat loudly for effect. Somehow, she still sounded delicate and refined as she did.

I pulled away from Tray and turn around to see...

"Sophie-Anne," I whispered, then realized how disrespectful I was being. "Your Majesty," I added, curtsying awkwardly.

She laughed daintily. "No need for that here."

She was even more gorgeous now, if such a thing were possible. Her hair and makeup were perfect as ever, her evening gown was elegant (but as always, looked too grown-up for her early-teen body), her fur wrap was like something Marilyn Monroe would wear, and she had sparkling jewels on her neck, wrists and ears... but she also looked less pale. Rosy, even. If it weren't so ridiculous, I'd think she almost looked alive.

That feeling that I was being pulled away became even stronger. "I have to go somewhere," I told her dumbly.

"Yes, you do," she agreed. "I'll take you. I don't usually trouble myself to welcome new arrivals, but in this case..." She turned and offered me her elbow, as though she expected me to walk with her, my arm linked with hers.

I looked over my shoulder to say goodbye, but Tray was already gone. "Bye, Tray," I called out anyway, and somewhere in the woods, I heard a long howl in response.

I turned back to Sophie-Anne and took her arm to be polite. "Oh, you're so warm!" I exclaimed.

"Yes, it's different here," she smiled, showing partly-extended fangs. "I can walk in the sun, too."

I somehow hadn't noticed before, but it was daytime, and we were outside, and even standing in full sunlight, she was fine.

"Wow," I breathed. "That must be so great, feeling the sun on your skin again."

She shrugged. "It doesn't nourish me like it does you."

We walked a while longer, the path winding between tall hedges that hid most of the garden. It wasn't until we were halfway down the hill that there were any openings in those hedges. I peeked in when I could, glimpsing various manicured tableaux as we wandered past. There were people everywhere in this garden: sitting on benches, crouching to smell flowers, walking arm-in-arm on the paths.

"I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you," Sophie-Anne told me, and for a moment, I felt anxious. She didn't seem angry, though. "You brought the bomb right to my room. Of course, Andre is even more to blame, trying to bond you to him as he did. I punish him for that. He was pledged to me, even before I brought him over, but he got himself killed for you instead. But your loyalty only waned after he harmed you, and I supposed you thought I ordered it, so that is forgivable."

I wasn't sure what to say about that, so I just nodded, but that didn't make her happy. It was almost like she wanted my approval. _OK, this is getting weird_, I thought to myself. For the first time, I wondered where I was, and why everyone else here seemed to be... well, dead.

"Your tiger won't be punished for killing him," she added. "Andre committed a blood offense against you, so Quinn had the right to avenge it."

"Thank you," I smiled, and at last she smiled back.

We walked on in companionable silence. At the next gap in the hedge, standing with her arms crossed over her chest, was Lorena. I shrank away from her, suddenly very thankful that Sophie-Anne was between the two of us.

"What's she doing here?" I squeaked.

The Queen laughed lightly. "You know exactly what she's doing here," she told me. "You are the one who sent her here, no?"

I nodded very slightly, because it seemed rude not to answer.

Lorena started moving towards me, but with a look, Sophie-Anne stopped her. We walked past unharmed, Lorena glaring at me. For a long while afterward, I glanced over my shoulder nervously, expecting that Lorena would follow us. If she did, I didn't see her.

We turned off the first path onto another, which led through a rose garden Gran would have loved: it extended as far as I could see, with every kind of rose set amongst low knots of hedging. There were arches decked in big, loose roses; fragrant white roses set on high straight stems bordering the path; low rambling roses growing around their feet; and bushes of every size, shape and color set amongst the plantings. Thinking of Gran made me sad.

"Why isn't she here?" I wondered aloud. "My Gran... she's dead, too."

"Oh, only Supes come here," my unlikely companion told me.

I nodded sadly, hoping that wherever Gran was, the roses were even more beautiful there.

At last, we turned another corner and Sophie-Anne announced, "Here we are."

We were facing a wall. It had one of those weird wooden cut-out things on it, that was meant to look like an archway leading through it, but that was all. I spun around to work out where I was, and too late, I realized I was surrounded by vampires. Clancy. Longshadow. Charles Twining. Sigebert, standing protectively behind Sophie-Anne. Chow.

_Chow?_ I thought to myself. _What's he doing here?_ "It's not my fault," I blurted out to him. "It's not my fault you're here."

He shook his head at me. "You're the one who got us all talking. Vampires don't fight alongside shifters and witches, when you're not around. Without you, it would've been Eric here, not me."

"He will be here soon enough," grinned Sigebert, but in his strong accent it sounded more like, _evil be here zoon enuff _.

"Don't hurt him!" I begged. "Please, don't-"

"He won't," Sophie-Anne cut me off. "The twins have been waiting for a worthy sparring partner. They're glad to see your Viking again."

"He's coming here?" I asked tearfully. "He's going to-"

"I'm already here, lover," Eric whispered in my ear, his arms wrapping around me from behind.

"We're together again," I smiled, leaning back against him.

"For the moment," he replied, inhaling deeply with his nose in my hair, "but we are almost out of time." Then he turned me to face him. He whispered something in the long-dead language he sometimes spoke when we were intimate, and I just knew he was saying he loved me.

"I love you too," I whispered back.

He kissed me passionately, and I kissed him back with equal fervor. I'd forgotten how great he was at this, and it was wonderful to be reminded. But he broke away from my lips abruptly, his movements suddenly urgent.

"Goodbye, lover," he told me. "Make the most of my gift. I don't want to see you again for a very long time."

"What?" I begged, tears already stinging my eyes. "No, please, don't-"

He silenced me with another kiss, and I gave myself over to it entirely, wrapping my arms around him so he couldn't leave me. But somehow, he still did, slipping through my arms as though he'd melted away.

I was somewhere else now, and it was dark. I was lying on my back, and my limbs felt weird, as though they'd been bent into shapes they wouldn't naturally assume. With a few small, agonizing movements, I straightened them out, and they started to knit back together. Then I was coughing desperately, struggling to bring air into my lungs. My mouth was full of something gritty, something ashy tasting. With effort, I managed to turn my head to the side and cough it all out, stirring up a cloud of dust as I did.

As I spat out the last of the revolting, dirt-like substance, I tasted something else in my mouth; a taste I would recognize anywhere.

Blood.

Eric's blood.

I willed myself to move, and slowly, one of my arms began to respond. I groped blindly, feeling dust and denim and t-shirt fabric, then hair.

Long hair.

"Eric?" I croaked, but my voice wasn't coming out right. My throat hurt, but I couldn't seem to care about that. "Eric?" I repeated.

I tangled my fingers in his hair, but when I tugged on it gently to tell him I was here, it came away in my hand.

I couldn't breath. My heart was like a brick in my chest and my lungs felt so tight they wouldn't move. I willed there to be light, and there was, but I scrunched my eyes closed for a moment, hoping, praying...

Then, slowly, I opened them.

There was dust all around me, and I recognized that dust: vampire dust. My breath came in short, sharp gulps, faster and faster. The dust was partly contained by jeans, boots, a t-shirt... but plenty of people wore clothes like that, I told myself. Women, even, not just men.

But the long, blond hair in my hand... I knew that hair. Knew the feel of it, and the color (so similar to my own)... Eric's hair. The rest was in a pool amongst the dust, above the jeans and t-shirt, and for a moment, I refused to process what I was seeing.

"No," I sobbed. "No-no-no-no-nonono."

I struggled for breath as tears clouded my vision, and then I saw the wooden chair leg piercing the t-shirt. It all clicked together in my mind: Eric was dead. He had died saving my life, giving me blood, bringing me back. His wrist had turned to dust as I sucked on it...

I started screaming, and then abruptly, I was somewhere else again.


	37. Nightmare

I screamed until my breath gave out, then started sobbing again as I gasped for air. "Eric?" I begged.

"Sshh, sshh, you're OK," a male voice soothed me.

"Eric?" I asked again, turning towards the voice.

I was in my bedroom now, the third place I'd been in as many minutes, and my head swam with disorientation. I blinked the tears out of my eyes, looking around to see who else was here.

Not Eric. Quinn.

I sprang out of bed, running through the hallway to the phone in my kitchen, rushing so much I almost tripped over my own legs. My fingers dialed his number and I pressed the phone to my ear, hoping, praying...

"Well hello, lover," Eric's voice purred in my ear.

All the air rushed out of my lungs. "You're OK," I gasped. "You're OK."

"You had a nightmare," he told me. He sounded almost... pleased?

I suddenly felt really stupid. "You're alive," I muttered.

He let out a long belly laugh. "Lover, you must still be asleep. I haven't been alive for a thousand years."

"Oh." I felt like a moron.

"What are you wearing?" he thankfully changed the subject, sounding much more interested in this topic of conversation.

I glanced down, and told him the truth - "Nothing" - before I thought better of it. I'd jumped out of bed without even thinking about clothes, I was so worried about him. A second later, I clicked my fingers and I was wearing my favorite old pink nightgown, which felt better.

"That's what I hoped you would say." His voice was all husky and hoarse. "You are in your kitchen, yes? I remember you naked in your kitchen, lover. I remember sitting you on your kitchen bench and fucking you 'til you screamed for me. I am very glad I regained that memory." Boy, did he mean that; his tone of voice made it clear. "Do you remember that, lover? Those benches are just the right height for me... very convenient, really. Do you think of me fucking you on that bench while you prepare your meals?"

"Eric," I groaned, wondering why he had to make everything about sex.

"Yes, that's how you moaned my name... You do remember. Do you think of it, while you pleasure yourself? Do you think of it, while that stupid smelly animal is-"

"I've got clothes on, now." I realized as soon as I said it, that it wasn't going to shut him up.

"I can come over and fix that, if you wish?" he offered cheekily. He sounded like he was, um, amusing himself while he spoke to me.

I was just about to explain why that wasn't going to happen, when I heard a soft little humph through the phone. A female humph.

I hung up on him and left the phone off the hook, then leaned against the wall. Those horrible images were still haunting me, making me tremble and sob. (I told myself that was the only thing upsetting me.) Slowly, I sank down to the ground, my heart still not believing it was only a dream.

A warm hand touched my shoulder, dragging me back to reality. "Hey," was all Quinn said to me, wondering if I was actually awake.

I looked right at him for a moment, finally registering the worry on his face, the buzz of concern in his mind, that he was crouched right beside me...

"So many people have died because of me," I wept, my eyes misting over again. "They all died so I could live. And Eric's gonna be next. He's gonna get himself killed for me. He's-" My voice broke up as I started sobbing again, thinking of Claudine, Crystal and their daughters, and Tray, and Eric... especially Eric.

Strong fingers rubbed my shoulders, because that was all Quinn could think to do to comfort me.

Then, abruptly, Hunter plonked down on my lap, his non-plastered arm draped around my neck. "It's not the future," he assured me. "It's all in your brain."

I stared at him in shock. "Eric's not gonna die?"

"Not now. We all keep each other alive." He was completely confident about that, and his confidence was infectious.

"So... none of what I saw was real?"

He shook his head. "Just a dream." He wouldn't say it aloud, but he thought it was a little, quote, _con-seated_ to think there would be a separate afterlife just for people who died because of me. (He had a good vocabulary for a child his age, but some words, he was still figuring out.) He was right.

"Sorry I woke you," I apologized.

"Sorry Claudine and Crystal died before my cousins got born," he replied sadly. He was as disappointed as I was, that he never got to meet them. "Tray was gonna die anyway," he added. "If not then, the next month or later this year... he died right."

I caught some little echo of a future that was no longer possible (something he couldn't usually see), and even though I couldn't quite catch the images, I could feel that dying to save me felt honorable to Tray; far more so than the other two possibilities. One of the other options was something to do with Were politics, which he hated, and the third was a work-related accident; something blowing up next to him. I would never feel good that Tray was gone, but knowing he died in the way he would've preferred was a small comfort to me.

"Let's get you back to bed," I told Hunter, kissing his forehead.

He nodded, suddenly heavy and sleepy in my arms. His work here was done, so he was already drifting off again.

I held him tightly and Quinn helped us both up, then silently followed as I took my nephew back to his room. I tucked him back into my old bed, then gave him another kiss on the forehead.

"Goodnight," I whispered as I stood up again.

"'Night, cub," Quinn added, bending down to kiss him goodnight, too.

'Cub' was the nickname most weretiger parents gave their sons ('kitten' was preferred for daughters; it drew less suspicion from humans than calling a girl 'cub'), and hearing him say it reminded me of a conversation they'd had the previous afternoon, about teaching Hunter to use his newfound shape-shifting abilities. I couldn't help but smile.

My boyfriend went to give my nephew a quick peck on the forehead, like I'd done, but Hunter threw his covers off and gave him a big hug, thinking that he needed it. 'Hearing' that gave me pause, and I quickly realized it was true. Quinn had a way of focusing his attention on whatever needed to be done, then processing his feelings about it later. Sometimes much later. Right now, he was getting Hunter and I back to sleep so we'd get enough rest, and that was the content of all his conscious thoughts... but under the surface, there was something else: concern over me dreaming about Eric again, a question mark about what it meant, and a whole lot of hurt that no matter what he did, he could never mean more to me than my ex, who had joined a part of my soul to him.

Watching my boyfriend tuck Hunter back into bed, my heart ached for him. If he regularly said someone else's name in his sleep, I'd be devastated. Heck, if he even did that once... and yet, he tried to be understanding and kind about this. It made no sense to me. I was used to men who were furious with me simply for having male friends - murderous if I dared hug one of them - but this man tolerated me having an ex I wasn't fully over yet.

I turned off the light as he finished tucking Hunter back into bed and stood up to leave, then took his hand to lead him the few steps back to our bedroom. I was trying to think of something to say, because 'sorry' just didn't seem to cut it, this time. He sensed my unease and pulled me into bed with him, cuddling up to me. I was just starting to get comfortable when there was a knock on my front door.

"Bill," he and I said in unison.

I was guessing, based on the time and circumstances. All I really knew was, it was a vampire - I could feel the void of an undead mind at my door. But only one vampire came to comfort me when I had nightmares, and that was my neighbor, so I assumed it was him.

My boyfriend knew for sure. He had that shifter sense of smell: like an animal's, but somehow enhanced by his shifter magic. He smelled Bill; he smelled the cotton of Bill's shirt and trousers and the leather of his shoes; he smelled Selah's blood, sweat and fluids all over Bill's body; he smelled the disturbed earth and leaves along the path Bill had taken to my front door; he smelled a faint underlying whiff of day-old bubble bath, still clinging to Bill's skin... I'd heard that for dogs, smell was like a four-dimensional picture of everything around them (time being the fourth dimension). They didn't have to see something to know exactly what happened; they didn't even have to be there when it happened; all they had to do was sniff the site or anyone involved. Quinn's sense of smell was even more powerful: not only could he tell what a person had done and eaten for the last few days, he could even smell the biochemical changes that accompanied their moods. The surge of adrenaline that came with fear was especially distinct, but sadness, worry, anger, happiness, disgust, contempt and lust also had their own aromas.

Bill didn't smell even slightly worried; he smelled happy instead. 'Hearing' that, I was reminded that to Bill, my every nightmare was an opportunity: a chance to regain my favor; a chance to learn something he could report to someone who wanted to kidnap me. I was appalled.

"Do you want to talk to him?" my boyfriend asked me.

"No," I answered too emphatically. I sounded rude. "I just wanna go back to sleep," I added. I didn't have to fake the yawn that followed.

"OK." He was already sliding out of bed to go deal with my unwanted visitor, but I grabbed his hand to stop him for a moment.

Discovering how Bill really felt about my nightmares - that his friendly concern wasn't genuine and probably never had been - made me want to know how my boyfriend felt about them, too. I probed his mind quickly, then squeezed his hand and let go of it.

"Thank you," I said weakly. "I'm really tired."

He nodded and walked out of the room, wondering why I was poking around in his brain, but not really minding that I had.

As I listened to him politely send my neighbor away, I untangled the feelings I'd just read from him. There were a whole mix of emotions there, but thankfully being pleased I had a nightmare wasn't one of them. The most prominent was simple discomfort: he hated seeing me unhappy, because knowing I felt bad made him feel bad, too. Not only out of empathy, but also out of a misguided sense of responsibility: he believed that being a good mate meant helping me have whatever I needed in my life to be happy. If I wasn't happy, he wasn't a good enough mate, in his estimation. There was also a strong sense of impotence there, knowing my nightmares were something he couldn't fix; that all he could do was offer me any support I needed as I slowly worked through the emotional trauma that caused them. He'd learned the hard way that when it came to dealing with trauma, talk was every bit as important as action, but even after years of therapy to deal with his own issues, it still wasn't his natural way of doing things. Given a choice, he would always prefer to fight, or run, or work, or fuck, than sit around discussing how he felt - it was only experience that told him talking was sometimes necessary. Boy, could I relate to that.

By the time he got back, I knew this was one of those times. He slid into bed next to me again, and I snuggled in under his arm, pressing my body against his and clinging to his broad, strong chest. I silently told him it was only Bill I didn't want to talk to, and he immediately realized what I meant. But he didn't ask right away, waiting instead until Bill was well out of earshot, to be sure I wasn't caught in my lie. As I waited, my mind drifted to what I'd caught from Hunter before: that my boyfriend was really hurt by me dreaming about my ex again.

"Tell me about your dream?" he quietly asked, a full two minutes later.

By the time I was done telling him about it, I was sobbing again.

"How horrible," he hugged me even tighter. "You blame yourself for all those people's deaths?"

"It was my fault. Every one of them died because of me. Because of things I did. I've gotten so many people killed, and-"

"Babe, Claudine, Crystal, their unborn children and Tray all died because Niall was at war with his enemies. You didn't cause that; the war was brewing long before you were born. Sophie-Anne and Sigebert died because de Castro's a grandiose little prick who thinks he deserves to be America's first Emperor, and since no-one here wants an Emperor, he's decided to conquer their territories one by one instead. Debbie Pelt died because she was vindictive, spiteful, and arrogant enough to underestimate you. She left you no choice but to kill her, so really, she chose exactly what she got. Acting in self-defense is your absolute right. Don't ever forget that.

"The other people you mentioned... I don't know who Jerry Falcon was, but-"

"A Were who came to kill me but Bubba killed him first," I hastily explained.

"Oh, you know Bubba?" he smiled. Apparently, Bubba was one of the few vampires he actually liked. "Well, if Jerry Falcon was trying to kill you, I'm glad Bubba was there to stop him... The others you mentioned, they were all vamps, right?"

I nodded.

"Look, more often than not, being made vampire lessens the number of years a person spends on earth. A helluva lot of them are like Hadley, and meet their final death long before their human lifespan would've ended. Eric's exceptional to have lived so long, and Bill's probably bang on average, as far as vamp lifespan goes. You've seen the way they all plot and scheme against each other. They don't respect vampire un-life any more than they respect human life, really. Sending someone else to their final death is a means to an end, for most vamps, so it's not your fault so many you've known have died."

"Oh." I'd really never thought of it that way before. I tried to look at how I contributed to a situation and what I could've done differently to change the outcome, before I pointed fingers at anyone else... but there was a certain amount of sense in what he said.

"As for Eric being in danger because of you... he's been around for a thousand years. He knows how to not get killed." He didn't say any more, just held me and let all that he'd said slowly sink in.

As I lay in his arms thinking about it, it felt like a weight lifted off my chest. I hadn't grieved my cousin, my sister-in-law or my friend yet; I couldn't think of them without drowning in guilt, so I locked them away in a corner of my mind and left them there, where I wouldn't have to contemplate their loss. But thinking of what he said - that I wasn't the direct cause of their deaths, and that even as far as indirect causes go, I wasn't the main one - gave me some small measure of peace. There had been days when I felt like I had killed them, as surely as if I had poisoned or stabbed or crucified them myself. But that wasn't true; my great-grandfather's war was what really happened to the three of them. I breathed an actual sigh of relief, finally realizing I wasn't to blame - that I had barely escaped the Fairy War with my own life, despite the sacrifice so many made for me. Claudine and Tray chose to protect me, and as Quinn told me in the dark days when I wasn't sure I could go on, the only way I could honor their sacrifice was to make every day of my life worthy of them.

As my guilt over the deaths of people I cared about ebbed away, another, different surge of guilt swept in. My poor boyfriend woke to the sound of me screaming Eric's name again, although thankfully this time it wasn't in a sexy way. But still, he held me, comforted me and tried to sooth me back to sleep, trying not to feel hurt about it. He didn't want to share me, but I couldn't break my bond to Eric, no matter how much I wanted to move on.

I wondered what I could ever do to make that up to him.


	38. Issues

"I was wondering when it would all catch up with you," Quinn murmured. "Claudine's death, Crystal's, Tray's... it takes a while sometimes, and you've had such a fight just to survive, yourself... I haven't seen you grieve, yet. If there's anything I can do..."

We were cuddled up in bed together, but I still wasn't ready to go back to sleep after my nightmare. First, I had to make this right.

"Why are you being so nice?" I blurted out. "I was dreaming about Eric again, and I know that hurts you, and-"

He silenced me with a gentle kiss. "Everyone you know, you want to keep alive. Even strangers, you want to help. It's one of the things I love about you, that you risk your own life to save other people. I love you for rescuing all those people in Rhodes, and being so kind to my sister, and doing the things I couldn't do to keep people alive in the takeover, and going to Seattle to help find people, and making sure nobody gets killed because of your readings... I'd be such a hypocrite, if I loved all that and then got mad at you for wanting to keep your ex alive." _Especially when he's risking his life to keep you safe even though you're with me, now, _he silently finished.

I 'heard' how important it was to him, that I was such a good person (in his eyes); that the things he'd had to do to survive had numbed him to others' pain or death for a long time, and being close to someone who valued life and tried to preserve it made it easier for him to do the same. He genuinely didn't begrudge that I extended that to my ex.

I hadn't ever thought of it in those terms before, and it was true that Eric wasn't the only person I wanted not to die... and he had taken a big risk, warning me about de Castro's plans for me... and was taking even bigger risks to thwart them...

"Besides," he added, and I could feel that he knew I wouldn't like what he had to say next. "Don't shoot lightning at me for saying this but... one day, we'll bump into one of the two or three people I loved before I met you, and when we do," he paused to think of the best way to say it. "I won't feel nothing. I won't feel what I feel for you, but whatever spark was there once... it won't be completely gone. Hell, even if I run into someone I had a fling with once, I'll feel something. Not seeing someone for ages... it's like everything that once attracted me to them is new again, and for a split second, I'll want them... and I can't hide that from you. And when that happens, I need you to know it doesn't mean anything about us; it's just an echo of something from the past. So I figure what you feel for Eric is like what I feel for the two or three people I've loved before, but stronger because of the blood bond, and how recently you broke up, and the way he keeps trying to get you back... OK?"

I nodded, hugged him even tighter and kissed him, understanding exactly what he meant. I took a look around his mind as I did, and saw that there were flickers of feeling left for some of the people in his past, tucked away in their own little corners. I had two exes, but he had... dozens? He had some major worries about that, thinking that sooner or later, some ex of his would turn up and mess this up for him, or I'd hear something about his past that I wouldn't like, or see a picture of him with someone else... he wasn't going to judge me on anything to do with my exes, because he hoped I wouldn't judge him on anything to do with his.

"This really isn't your fault," he reassured me. "If you want to blame someone... well, I knew you got out of that relationship less than a month ago, and that he split up with you... I knew there was no way you were over him yet, but I wanted you back, so when I saw my chance I went for it. I knew I wasn't doing things right. I could've given you more time, made sure this wasn't a rebound thing-"

"I didn't want that," I interrupted. "I wanted to be with you again. And if we're gonna talk about rebound stuff, the first time I was ever with him when he was himself, I was massively on the rebound from you, and if I hadn't been..." I didn't know how to finish that sentence. "Darn, this whole thing is complicated."

"Not complicated," he shook his head. "I love you and want to be with you. You said you feel the same. The rest only matters as much as we let it."

"OK," I agreed, "I understand." Then I realized something else. "I've felt that way," I confessed. "That weird spark thing with an ex, even after it's totally over and I knew I could never go back... I felt that way about Bill, when I finally saw him again, after he left me and tried to give me to Eric and I had to rescue him. I still felt something, even though he'd just..." I trailed off awkwardly, then felt mad at myself that I had. "Why can't I ever finish that sentence? What the hell is wrong with me? Every time I go to say it, I just stop instead..." I growled in frustration.

He gave me an odd, crooked smile - almost a grimace - and pulled me so close I couldn't look at his face. "That's why I never told you about... well, you know." His Mom. Her rape. The hunters he killed. The pits. His sister. It was all on the surface of his mind where I could read it clearly, but he couldn't take that extra step and say it all aloud. "Talking about it makes it so real... inescapable, almost."

"And once people know that about you, it's like that's all there is to you," I added softly. A moment later, I realized I wasn't just talking about his life, I was talking about mine, too. "If I say those words, then there's a label for what I am, and a label for what Bill is... I don't like that."

"You don't think of yourself as a victim," he filled in, mercifully leaving out what type of victim I was.

"No. I don't wanna be that, because I feel like I can't be that and anything else, as well. Does that make any sense?"

"It makes perfect sense. People don't want these things too close to them, so they decide the people who do that or who had it done to them are different somehow... not just regular people with a major character flaw or a spot of bad luck."

I nodded, suddenly understanding something. "That's why my parents didn't believe me about Uncle Bartlett. They thought only monsters do that, and they knew he wasn't a monster, because he was family and he seemed normal enough to talk to. Not evil at all. That's what they thought when I told them..." Tears start rolling down my face, trickling from one eye to the other, then onto the pillow beneath me. "And Bill... if I call him that, then there's something wrong with me for still speaking to him, isn't there?"

He shook his head. "Life would be so much easier if people were all bad or all good... if you could know one thing about them and know everything... but good people do bad things and bad people do good things... nobody's all one way. Bill... there's a lot of bad there, but he really would die to protect you. He wasn't just saying it." He hated admitting that, but he felt like he owed me the truth. "Eric would, too," he added, giving me a significant look as he brushed my tears away.

"What Eric did last night wasn't like what Bill did," I snapped. "I'm the one who was actually there, and it wasn't at all the same thing."

"I never said it was."

"You used the same word," I accused. "You used the same word for what Eric did as what Bill did, and it wasn't at all the same."

"Yeah, and the word for what you did to Debbie Pelt to stop her killing you, is the same as the word for what Lochlan and Neeve did to your sister-in-law and her unborn child. Doesn't mean they're at all the same." Then he realized what he'd just said. "God, I didn't mean to imply Eric was at all justified in what he did," he spluttered. "Or that what Bill did to you is as permanent and impossible to recover from as what those goddam fairies did to Crystal. That's a really sucky analogy, forget I said it, please?"

"No," I disagreed, "I get your point. And Eric really wasn't trying to hurt me. Bill didn't care that he was hurting someone until he realized it was me." I was getting teary again. "I don't really understand why either of them did it, but I know it wasn't the same thing."

He nodded, taking in what I was saying. "I can hazard a guess at what might be different?" he offered, checking that I wanted to hear it; that I felt ready to discuss it.

I did, so I nodded.

"OK, one of the things I had to learn to be able to help my Mom, is that a lot of the stuff people believe about rape is totally wrong. And one of those things is, that a person only ever does that if they're deliberately trying to hurt the other person in one of the worst ways they could. But that's not always true; often, the man - I mean, sometimes it's a women, but usually it's a man - just doesn't care that he's hurting another person; just doesn't even think about them. That's why it happened to my Mom, they looked at her and didn't even see a person." He sounded the most bitter I'd ever heard him sound. "All they saw was a chance to prove how _manly_ they were to each other, by showing off how roughly they could-" he stopped there, swallowing loudly, as though he was eating his own words before they could leave his mouth. "They weren't even looking at her. It was like she wasn't there, to them. They were all just looking at each other, cheering each other on." He thought a whole tangle of extremely uncharitable stuff about those men, their behavior, and what it really said about them, that they would do something so callous to try to prove their 'manhood' to each other.

"I should've made them look at her, before I killed them," he added quietly. "The two ringleaders, they thought what they were doing was fine, but the others... they knew it was wrong. They just blocked out the fact that she was terrified, and crying, and bleeding, and begging them to stop... they only paid attention to each other, so they wouldn't have to see that. Those guys... if it was their mother, or sister, or daughter, they would've done exactly what I did, if they could. The two ringleaders would do what they did to my Mom to their own daughter and beat her if she complained, but the others, they knew they were doing wrong. But it was like they thought they had some right to _prove their manhood_" - he said the words with sarcastic derision - "to each other that trumped her right to not be hurt like that. They felt entitled to do that to her, because she was there and they thought it'd be fun... they felt entitled to just use her, like she was some inanimate object that can't feel pain."

He was opening old wounds in a major way, to try and help me understand why this stuff happened. I just clung to him, holding him tightly and burying my face against his chest while he spoke, trying to silently comfort him because I had no words to make any of it better.

"And I'm not saying what Bill did to you was the same," he went on, "because every single time that happens, it's different... different people, different circumstances... but that guy has that sense of entitlement in a really bad way. Vamps can be terrible like that: they think because they need blood to survive, that gives them a right to just take it, whether a person wants them to or not. They think their right to not be hungry trumps humans' right to not be harmed, so they don't even consider that they're hurting a living, breathing, feeling person. Their own satisfaction is far more important to them than that person's pain. And I get that when they're young, they kill a lot of the people they feed on by accident, and they go numb to cope with that... but some of them grow out of it later, and some of them don't. And Bill really hasn't.

"I don't think Bill's actually sorry for what he did to you. Not for any of it. He's sorry that you won't let him fuck and feed on you any more, but he doesn't really think it's wrong to hurt you, and he sure as hell doesn't think it's wrong to ignore your wishes whenever it suits him," he fumed. "He's useful to help protect you, up to a point, but I wouldn't trust him, if I were you. He does feel something for you... but if Eric wasn't around, I'm not sure you would've had a choice about getting back together with him."

I shuddered at the thought of it, but deep in my gut, I knew it was true. I took a deep breath and moved back just enough to look him in the eye. "You're right," I admitted, my voice small and shaky. "I know you're right. Bill... he knew he was hurting someone, and it was only when he realized it was me that he cared enough to stop. He was fine about doing that, only not to me." I was trembling all over, admitting that. "And that might only be because he can't glamor me into forgetting how awful he was... But Eric isn't like that. I can't really explain what's different, but... well, something is."

He nodded. "Eric doesn't seem to feel entitled to just take what he wants from whoever he wants," he agreed. "A big part of his reputation... it's because he trades sex for blood. He has some sense of fair play, and his version of fair is giving a woman an orgasm or three as payment for her blood. He does have some sense of honor. It's a weird, twisted vampire sense of honor, but it's better than none at all."

I couldn't help a little smile. "Yeah, that sounds like Eric." Then I thought some more about it. "He is genuinely sorry, isn't he?" I asked.

"Yeah, far as I can tell, he is." Something had taken place after I left the fairy meadow that had convinced him of that.

"And he really wasn't trying to hurt me?" I meant it to be a statement, but I sounded so much less sure of that than I thought I was.

"No, I don't think he was."

"Then why?" I blinked back tears. "If he doesn't want to hurt me, why doesn't he listen when I say no?"

"I'm only guessing," he disclaimed, "but one of the other things that's not true, is that it's usually a spontaneous 'crime of passion'... a lot of the time, it's planned. Most guys who do that, they befriend a woman and test her out beforehand, over-stepping her boundaries in smaller ways to check that she'll be polite and let him get away with it because they're friends. Makes it more likely she'll blame herself afterwards, too: he can argue that she led him on by letting him do whatever, when she actually made it perfectly clear she didn't want any of it.

"And I don't think that's quite what happened with Eric, but... well, I think he planned to split us up by getting you back into bed with him, and he just didn't let your objections derail his plans. He doesn't feel entitled to take what he wants from any woman, but he does seem to feel a sense of entitlement to you. He keeps calling you his wife, and the whole idea that women can say no to their husband... that's really new, in terms of the time he's been around. I don't think he really believed you have a right to refuse him."

I could feel in my gut that was true, too. Eric made choices for me all the time, as though he has some right to decide what happens in my life. Who I'm friends with, what I drive, who I hug, where I work, who I marry... it wasn't much of a stretch for him to think he decides when I have sex, too.

Then I realized something really disturbing. "You're the only reason his plan didn't work," I reminded my boyfriend. "I still feel like it's my fault, because I could've done more than just say no a few times and I didn't... I still feel like part of me-"

"Like part of you is attached to him in a way you can't control? Like you still feel attracted to him, no matter what he does?"

"How did you-"

"It's the blood bond," he finished. "It's what it does. I don't like it, but breaking your bond to him would do you so much harm, I don't think-"

"What would happen?" I interrupted. "You promised you'd tell me."

He gave me a grim smile. "A blood bond can be broken, but it tears away the part of your ethereal being that's attached to him."

"I'd lose part of my soul," I surmised.

"Yes. And it's so painful to be torn apart like that, nobody can survive it for long. The vampire always finds a way to meet their final death within a year, and the human's only option for survival is to be bonded to another vamp, who can fill some of the gap, but the person's still never really whole again. The only other way to rid you of Eric is to bond you to an even older, more powerful vampire, but that's not much of an option. Or to a demon, but again, that wouldn't free you, just bind you to someone else who'd have even more power over you."

"You know a lot about this." I didn't mean for it to sound like an accusation, but it did.

"My mate is blood bonded to a vampire, and you told me you didn't want that. My company has the best mystical research department on this continent, and they specialize in ceremonial magic like bonding, so of course I've had them look into it. I get the head of department out of trouble often enough that he owes me about a million favors, so Fielding's been spending a lot of his free time researching blood bonds, looking for any mystical loophole that might free you. He's found about a dozen spells to break a blood bond, beyond the standard one the vampire courts use, but they all inflict a lot of damage on both parties. I had him look into healing spells as well, to see if we could break the bond and then help you recover, but apparently having part of your soul torn off isn't something you _can_ recover from. He even looked into catching the part of your soul that's removed and re-attaching it, but since that part would still be attached to part of Eric, it would kinda defeat the purpose. Sancho actually told me a bunch of stuff too, but nothing I could use." He sounded astonished by that last part: his business partner sharing vampire secrets with him, completely voluntarily.

"And you were planning on telling me all this, when exactly?" I grilled him.

"When I could offer you a good option for severing the bond." He was so, so sad he'd never found one for me.

My anger was suddenly gone. I had wondered what he'd do if he found a way to break my bond with Eric, and there it was: he'd let me choose. Not break the bond without telling me; not give me an ultimatum; just offer me the option. I smiled softly at him.

"Fielding's exhausted his resources now, so I doubt he'll come up with anything," he apologized. "And all Sancho knew about breaking blood bonds is that no matter how you do it, you get a dead vampire and a deranged human. Amelia doesn't exactly like your bond with Eric, either, so I'm sure that if she found something that could free you in the fairy magic books, she'd tell you. I mentioned it to her, and she gave me a look like I was insulting her by even asking if she was working on it."

"So what you're saying is, I'm stuck with the blood bond." I couldn't keep the disappointment from my voice.

"I can get you some help managing it, and you might be able to learn to close your end like he can close his, but that's the best I can do."

"I think that might work out OK," I conceded. "Eric... he's really messed up in some ways, but there's good stuff about him, too."

"Yeah, I'm starting to see that." He was thinking about the uneasy alliance he and Eric had formed, to keep me out of de Castro's hands. "He's the reason you're alive and relatively free now." He was thinking about Sophie-Anne's plans for me, and regretting that he hadn't warned me about them, back when we first started dating. But he knew most girls would jump at the chance to live in a palace, parade around in stunning designer gowns, work maybe four hours a night for an enormous paycheck, then take their pick from a never-ending supply of adoring vampire lovers (who would actually treat her well because she was under the Queen's protection). He didn't know then that I wasn't most girls; that I would hate living in even the most gilded of cages. He did now.

Then he added, "And if you're gonna stay alive and free, there'll be times when you need both of us around."

"So ideally... we don't break my bond with Eric, but I learn to control it so he can't spy on me or mess with my feelings any more."

He nodded again. "Ideally, if you're in danger, Eric would still come to your aid."

"I don't want to think about what I'll have to do, to keep him interested in protecting me," I grumbled. "Every time I talk to him, it's just sex, sex and more sex."

He laughed. "Well... if you offered, I doubt he'd say no. But you've saved his life a couple of times, and your telepathy is useful to him..."

"...and there's my blood," I finished, since he couldn't say it aloud. "I won't be his blood whore or anything gross like that, but if he was badly hurt... I'd want to help heal him," I admitted softly. "I don't like seeing anyone hurting, and if I can help..."

"I know," he agreed. He was thinking about me giving Frannie money I couldn't really spare, so she could buy some clean, intact clothing after the bombing at Rhodes. He was thinking about me cleaning up Bill at my kitchen table a few weeks ago. He was thinking about me going to Seattle to help the rescuers find complete strangers, even though the FBI would surely come calling again, soon.

"I wish it wasn't like this," I told him, tears forming in my eyes. "I wish this blood bond..." I couldn't work out how to finish the sentence. Had never been formed? Could be broken without hurting me or Eric? Couldn't interfere with my feelings any more?

He pulled me closer and kissed me, until all those forming tears had dried up and I was only thinking about him.

"I wish my Mom wasn't crazy," he finally replied, "and that my sister would stop all the rebellious crap and grow up already. We both got issues."

I was grinning when I agreed, "We really do."

I kissed him again, and after a few long minutes of tender, sweet smooches, we both drifted back to sleep.


	39. Gift

The moment I woke, I knew Amelia was back from St. Louis. She was dreaming about Pam, and it wasn't exactly G-rated. Ew. She told me once that she could never be in a relationship where she had to be completely faithful, because after a while only sleeping with a man, she got an overpowering craving to be with a woman instead, and vice-versa. When it got really bad, she lost all interest in one gender, but fantasized about the other every waking moment; she swore that even in her sleep, it was all she thought about. Apparently, she'd been getting a bit too much boy-lovin' lately, because the stuff she was dreaming about...

I pulled my mental shields up around me, shuddering as I did. I didn't mind what she and Pam did together - they weren't hurting anyone, so it wasn't any of my business - but seeing/hearing/feeling/tasting it so graphically wasn't how I wanted to start my day.

"You OK?" a deep male voice whispered in my ear, curling around me as he did. He was so very warm. Yum.

"Amelia's back," I announced.

"Yeah, they got back just before sunrise. That's why you were shuddering?" Quinn asked, puzzled.

"Didn't have my shields up," I explained, "and she's dreaming about Pam. It was kind of... explicit."

"Not your thing, huh?" he chuckled in my ear.

Apparently, the human preoccupation with sexual orientation was amusing to him; shifters took reproduction very seriously, but sex, not so much. As long as you produced some offspring at some point, nobody cared what you did the rest of the time. Being exclusively gay (as in, never sleeping with the opposite sex at all) was frowned upon, but beyond that, none of the human labels applied.

Then I realized I had all my shields up, and I could still 'hear' him clearly.

"Oh, no," I groaned, curling up tight and putting my hands over my face.

"Sookie?" He was suddenly really concerned. "What's wrong?"

"Something's gone wrong with the fairy bond, or the imprinting, or something. I've got all my shields up, and I can still hear you."

He was horrified by the first part, but when he heard the second, he chuckled again. _I'm touching you, silly_, he thought to himself, then realized I was listening and called himself an idiot instead. _Sorry, I don't really think you're silly, just half-asleep... you're plenty smart when you're awake_. He kissed me softly on the back of my neck and then eased away, until there was a clear foot between his body and mine. As he did, his thoughts got fainter and fainter to me, until I was finally able to shield myself fully.

"Better?" he asked.

I nodded, but stayed curled up in a little ball. It was jarring to have other people's thoughts in my head before my own mind was awake yet.

"I'll go get you some coffee," he offered, and I gave a tiny nod so he'd leave.

I felt the bed move under his weight as he leaned in to kiss me again, but he must've changed his mind at the last moment.

Once he'd gone, I was alone with my own thoughts at last. I was immediately a lot calmer. I sat up in bed with my back against the headboard and got my mind back in order. I reached out to check on Hunter, who was still asleep. Judging by his brain patterns, he'd sleep another couple of hours, at least; he'd been out in the fairy meadow with Eric, Quinn and I 'til after 10pm last night, which was way too late for a child his age, and then I'd woken him up at 3am when I had yet another screaming nightmare. He needed plenty of rest for his arm to heal, so I made a mental note to start putting him to bed earlier.

As I did, Quinn wandered back in and handed me a cup of coffee. He was wearing underwear, period. Hoo boy.

"Sorry I freaked out before," I apologized. "Getting stuck in other people's dreams sucks. It doesn't happen often, but when it does..."

He nodded and sat down next to me, as I savored my morning caffeine hit. I could sense that he wanted to touch me, but he gave me a worried look instead. I adjusted my shields to let him in again, and I felt his instincts screaming at him to cuddle and comfort me. He was fighting them because he knew that if he touched me, it would be hard for me to shield out his thoughts.

"It's OK," I smiled, leaning against his side. "Your thoughts don't bother me. Amelia's dreams are what freaked me out. I don't usually overhear dreams, but she's such a strong broadcaster, and I had my shields completely down... it's just weird waking up to that."

"I want to say I understand, but I can't imagine what that'd be like," he confessed.

"I can show you if you want? It's not much fun though."

He thought about it for a moment, then nodded. "OK, hit me." He wanted to understand what I went through, hearing thoughts all the time.

I took another gulp of my coffee and set it down on the nightstand, then placed my hands on either side of his face, moving to straddle his legs as I did. Then I closed my eyes and concentrated, replaying what I'd just witnessed in Amelia's mind.

"Woah," he breathed.

I pulled my hands away, worried, but when I opened my eyes, it was immediately clear that he was fine. More than fine.

"_That's_ what Amelia's dreaming about?" he asked excitedly.

I nodded.

"Man," he sighed. "And how that felt to her... It feels like that to you, too?"

"Well... I've never done that with a woman... or tied up like that... and that gag thing and the candle wax are way, way beyond me... but yeah, that's pretty much what it feels like." I was blushing bright red, just talking about it. "I really shouldn't have shown you that, it's kinda private."

"I don't think Amelia would care," he pointed out. "I'm pretty sure that if I asked her, she'd tell me in far more detail."

"True." I blushed even brighter.

"Damn, I wish I had one of those," he admitted jealously.

As he said it, he placed his hand on my mound and swept his thumb across my clit gently. Even through two layers of fabric, it felt fantastic. My eyes rolled back in my head as I moaned loudly, loving what he did to me. He chose that moment to kiss me, and between the feel of his lips on mine and his thumb teasing me, I soon wanted more. I reached down to touch him, but realized at the last second that I could do something that might be even better. I pressed the palms of my hands to his face again instead.

"Do that again," I implored, "and you'll feel exactly how good it is."

He did just what I asked, and as the wonderful sensations flooded through my body, I let them flow from my mind to his. He screamed, stared at me in disbelief, then repeated that gentle stroke, screamed again, and stared at me some more.

"Holy hell," he murmured. "If I had one of those, I would never leave the house."

I just grinned and giggled, as another idea crossed his mind. He gently cupped my breast for a moment, then ran his thumb over my nipple, and I let the sensation flow from my mind to his. I only gasped, but he moaned loudly. His were really sensitive for a guy, but still, he was surprised by how great this was for me. He kept experimenting, first flicking his thumb back and forth over my nipple, then holding it gently between thumb and forefinger, then squeezing it lightly, then a little harder, then twisting... my own reactions were getting more intense by the second, but his were even more extreme. He was incoherent with pleasure, every movement making him utter a sharp little 'oh' in shock. For me, this was just how it felt to make love. For him, each sensation was brand new, unfamiliar, and mind-blowing in its intensity.

"Damn, I wish I had a set of those to play with," he marveled, stopping just long enough to string the words together.

"You can play with mine," I offered. I was trying to sound altruistic, but it came out greedy. Really greedy.

He grinned and started touching both my breasts at once, repeating everything he'd just done... only now, the sensations were doubled. I bit my lip and fought to keep my eyes open, as my soft little cries turned louder and more desperate. Watching his reactions was fascinating: he was shocked by how good, and how different, everything felt to me. In the past, I'd shared what I was feeling for a few seconds at a time, but sharing every sensation with him was novel. It did feel slightly strange, that we were kinda making love and all I was doing was pressing my hands to his face and letting every sensation flow through my mind to his, but it was a good sort of strange. OK, a great sort of strange.

"Is it like this for you?" he asked. "Do you feel how amazing everything is for me?"

"Oh, yes," I nodded, then started whispering in his ear. "I 'hear' you thinking you're the luckiest guy in the world every time I'm topless in front of you... and I feel how perfectly my breasts fit in your hands... and I 'hear' you thinking _yumyumyum_ every time you lick me... and I feel how wet and velvety my body is when you slide your fingers inside me... and how soft I am around your cock... and how my muscles milk you every time I come... and how much you get off on watching my face... it's so great, feeling how amazing making love to me is for you."

He gave me a really tender, loving look, then kissed me, as his hands found their way back to my breasts. For the first few moments, he was disconcerted to feel what kissing him was like to me - apparently kissing someone whose mouth is much bigger than your own is a very different sensation to kissing someone whose mouth is smaller, and he'd never felt the former before - but once I got caught up in the feel of his lips against mine, he did too, and neither of us were noticing the mechanics of it any more.

"Damn, that's good," he murmured, his hands tormenting my breasts in a way that had me literally dripping.

"It feels even better when there aren't clothes in the way," I promised, then removed my hands from his face so I could pull my nightdress over my head. He stared at my breasts as I did, marveling that as great as it was for him to play with them, it was even more fun for me.

As soon as my hands were resting against his face again, his hands were back on my chest. He started by massaging me, rolling the soft mounds in his hands 'til I was whimpering and he was growling for more. Then his fingers were circling the hard peaks, then rubbing and pinching and pulling and twisting; repeating everything that had ever brought a delighted cry to my lips and a lust-filled look to my eyes, to see how it felt. He was so overloaded with pleasure that he was panting now, while I just kept moaning aloud.

"Use your mouth," I begged as I ground against his legs slowly.

"Oh, man," he gasped, "I think I'd fall over in a heap if I did." He was leaning heavily against the headboard as it was, just to stay upright.

"Would that be a bad thing?" I teased, as I lay down beside him and beckoned.

He grinned and stretched out next to me, looking every inch the slinky cat he was. It always amazed me that he could move so gracefully, despite the bulk he carried. Humans seemed to lose from their range of motion whatever they gained in size, their muscles shortening as they grew until their body looked rigid, even when they moved. My boyfriend had no such problem; he had the flexibility of a feline, along with the coiled power of a tiger preparing to pounce. And when he looked at me the way he was... well, he could pounce on me any day.

I reached up and placed my hands on either side of his face, then pulled him down to me, guiding his lips to mine. As we kissed, I realized that with my hands against his face like this, I could direct him, moving him around so he'd kiss me exactly how I wanted, pulling him closer when I wanted him to kiss me harder, pushing him back for softer contact. As I did, we both found an even bigger spark of excitement: he loved it when I got bossy in bed, and I loved making him mine this way. He was so overwhelmed by the wonderful new sensations that he didn't even have the concentration to stay propped on his elbow any more, so he lay down beside me and rolled his body partway over me. Then all his skin was pressed against mine and we were both moaning at the sheer joy of being alone almost naked in a bed together.

"Wow," he marveled, when I finally pushed him back from my lips, "you really like this. You really, really like this."

_Ha, you never figured that out from all the screaming orgasms?_ I thought to myself, realizing a moment later that I was sharing everything I felt with him, and he'd just heard me think that. I could feel myself blushing a deep shade of scarlet as he grinned at me.

He was thinking about giving me one of those loud, screaming orgasms while I shared everything I felt with him, wondering if he'd be able to concentrate enough to get me there while my pleasure crashed through his body, flooding his mind with sensations he'd never felt before.

I smiled right back at him and guided his mouth to my breast, letting him feel my rapt anticipation when I saw his lips there, hovering less than an inch from the tender pink peak. Then he was sucking, and it was like a bolt of lightning through my body, the feedback loop that formed when I felt how great he felt, when he felt the wonderful things his mouth was doing to me. My back arched and my eyes snapped shut, and all I could do was whimper in delight for a long while. (And all he could do was suck harder and harder, too overwhelmed by the sensations I shared to make any other movement.) When my brain finally processed just how great it was, my body relaxed with a sigh and our eyes met again.

He was sucking so hard it almost hurt, in that wonderfully intense way that made me drip for him, and I knew I'd have a soft purple bruise on my aureole when he stopped, like a tender little love bite on my breast. I loved to look in the mirror after fantastic love-making and see small reminders all over my body, the marks mapping the pleasure we had shared. He 'heard' me and agreed whole-heartedly, thinking of the thrill he got after I claimed him, when he looked down to see me clinging to his chest, barely conscious, lying on the scratches and bite marks I'd left all over him. I grinned and thought of the four small dark marks on each of my hips, where his fingers had dug into my flesh while he fucked me the morning before, and his right hand moved to my left hip, pressing lightly on the tiny bruises he'd left there. It hurt just a little, but it was the good kind of hurt, the kind that made me ache to be fucked.

"Oh," he moaned as he felt that, releasing my nipple and shaking my hands from his face so he could talk. "I thought you were exaggerating... when you say you need me to fuck you so much it hurts... I never realized you meant it literally."

"You ain't seen nothing yet," I shrugged. "Er, felt nothing yet, I mean."

"It gets worse?" He was really alarmed.

"Yeah, that's just the start of the achey feeling, now. It keeps getting more intense. And when I say it hurts... there's this sharp pain that takes over after a while. That's when I get kind of wild and insistent and stuff." It was embarrassing to admit all that aloud, but he wanted to know...

He was thinking that he loved it when I got that wild, 'must fuck right this second' look in my eye, but if it actually _hurt_ me to tease me to that point - hurt even more than the ache I was feeling already - he wouldn't tease me nearly as much any more.

"No fair," I huffed. "So only you get teased 'til you're beyond desperate now? I don't like that." I pouted at him. "And since when do you mind hurting me a little?" I moved one hand to my breast, pointing out the already-purpling hickey he'd just left all around my nipple.

He understood then, thinking how much he loved it when I teased him, making him wait 'til he was aching before I offered him any kind of satisfaction, and how incredible it felt when I finally did; the heady mix of relief, pleasure and gratitude he felt then. For him, teasing that bordered on outright cruelty always preceded the most intense orgasms; the wonderful oblivion when all that pent-up desire was finally satisfied was one of his favorite feelings, and if his balls had to ache painfully for an hour beforehand to get him there... well, so be it. Feeling that desperation, when he would give literally anything for me to touch him, was more than worth it for the pleasure he felt when I finally did. (Plus he found it relaxing when I took over and told him what to do in bed, because he could just lie back and enjoy everything, without worrying whether what he was doing was working for me, or having to guess whether it was what I really wanted.)

"You get it now?" I waited 'til he nodded, then said, "Good boy" in an ever-so-slightly patronizing, 'I'm the boss around here' tone of voice. "Now don't you have another nipple to play with?" I put my hands back against his face, then pulled him towards my un-marked nipple.

He growled that deep, low growl I'd learned meant, 'very happy, turned-on tiger' and basically pounced on my breast, using hands and mouth and tongue and teeth to torment it thoroughly. He was now more used to feeling everything I felt, and he stared into my eyes the whole time, working out what every little reaction meant, so he'd be able to read exactly what I was feeling when I wasn't sending every sensation straight into his brain. Sharing what I felt allowed him to push me further than he ever had before, inflicting actual agonies, but always managing to stay just on the side of it being intense and thrilling; good pain, not bad. He sucked the tender little bud so hard I knew it would bruise even darker than the other, then started using his teeth as well, and every single feeling shot right through me to my core, making me flood my panties and ache for his cock. I mentally begged him to fuck me, hard and rough, right now.

He chuckled when he 'heard' that, pulling back to inspect his work and tell me, "Oh no, not yet... you said you like being teased, babe."

Then he started licking my freshly bruised nipples with his prickly tiger tongue, and it was the very best thing they had ever felt. He 'heard' me think that and his eyes widened in shock, wondering if I could possibly mean the word 'best' in the literal sense: that his tongue brought my breasts more pleasure than anyone else's hands or mouth ever had. I grinned and nodded, and he licked and licked until we were both purring.

His hand began exploring then, trailing over my flesh to find out how I felt when he touched me, and the instant feedback gave him perfect guidance to the most sensitive places. For a while, his fingertips just stroked the inside of my wrist, and it was all I could do to keep my hands against his face; between his tongue on my nipple and his fingers on my arm, I was gasping and moaning and squirming for more. I 'heard' him realize he could tease the tender spots on my wrists in public, thinking wicked thoughts about getting me crazy turned-on while we couldn't do a thing about it, so I'd attack him like a wildcat the moment we were alone again. Boy, did I like that idea.

But I silently warned him that if he ever actually did it, he risked being dragged into the nearest restroom and told to fuck me, right now. To say that didn't deter him would be an understatement; he started rubbing his cock against my leg at the thought of it. Feeling big, hard, hot male meat against my thigh thrilled me to my core, and at that moment, I went from aching intensely, to that point where the emptiness actually started to hurt. He felt it just as I did, and a moment later, my panties were being pulled off. An instant after that, he had a finger inside me, and I was screaming and squirming too much to think.

It took me a while to realize that his eyes were closed too, and his head was resting on my chest, and he literally wasn't moving anything other than that one finger; that alone was producing sensations that overwhelmed him entirely, because unlike me who was halfway used to this, to him, it was all brand new. His breath was coming fast and hard as his finger explored my insides, checking how everything felt to me, as I kept on sharing the wonderful sensations with him.

He was incredibly thorough, that single finger working its way into every part of my pussy, testing every soft, tender surface. He was exploring me, mapping my pleasure inch by inch, knowing me as nobody else ever had. I was limp beneath him, my body giving up its deepest secrets, one by one. With eyes closed and mouth open, a symphony of sounds made its way from my lips, telling him aloud that I was his, all his, an instrument of pleasure that he played to perfection. He loved it, and I loved it, and he loved that I loved it, and I loved that he loved it... sharing myself with him felt so right, I wanted to do it every day. He felt the same.

Then he started fucking me with his hand, pushing another finger into me and curling them to find the spot I loved best, so he'd know exactly how I felt when he did this to me. As he registered just how great it was, he started pressing my walls with a force he hadn't known I enjoyed until that moment. Feeling how this felt to me, he had to keep his mind on making it even better, because if he let himself bask in the exquisite sensations for even a second, he felt sure he would come immediately.

His movements were fast, hard, and utterly perfect. He could feel how amazing it was for me, and that made it easy for him to do it just right, fingering me at the perfect tempo, forcing his eyes open so he could watch my reactions. _So that's why she looks at me like that_, he thought to himself. _Damn, that feels so great_. He was only making the smallest, slightest movements inside me, but still, it was enough. My muscles gripped his fingers as I got closer and closer, my cries getting louder by the second. Then he pushed a third finger into me...

In little over a minute, he had me right on edge, so close I couldn't stop even if I wanted to. Normally he would tease me now, by easing off a little or 'making' me say something, because he knew that the longer he kept me right on the brink, the better it would be when he finally let me come. Not this time. This time, he felt how much I needed that impending orgasm and gave me exactly what I needed to get there. It was like my need had infected him as well; knowing how I felt when he touched me made him want to know how I felt when I came.

"Oh, fuck," he cussed, when he had me dangling right at the edge. "Oh, that's... wow. Oh, wow."

It was one of those times when I went all tingly first, the wonderful feelings spreading from my belly all the way down my legs, up my torso... and then I was there, screaming as my muscles tugged at his fingers. I managed to force my eyes open so I was looking at him as the crest of the wave hit me, and knowing he was feeling this with me made it satisfying on a whole other level. I couldn't stop staring at him, feeling how great it made him feel to know how great he made me feel. It turned me on enormously, knowing how much he loved pleasing me.

I finished in a floppy, happy puddle, my eyes still locked to his, and he looked every bit as limp as I was. My hands dropped from his face, finally separating our minds, and he was suddenly able to form sentences again.

"Wow," he repeated. "Oh, wow. It always feels that great?"

I could only nod, my mouth still hanging open after all that screaming.

"Oh, _man_," he grinned, feeling exceptionally pleased with himself.

We'd shared plenty of afterglow before, and he was getting better and better at coming at the exact moment I did, but this was different. We hadn't just felt similar things at the same time, we had shared _exactly the same sensations_. He gave me pleasure with his talented hands, and I gave it right back to him with my 'gift'. We had shared pleasure in a way no regular human could, and it was mind-blowingly great. He'd had a high opinion of his own sexual abilities before, but after feeling exactly what he did to me...

"You're like the cat that got the cream," I teased him, as soon as I regained the power of speech.

That just sent his dirty mind in another direction entirely. "Oh no," he whispered dangerously, "not yet, I'm not."

As he devoured me with his eyes, he sucked his fingers clean, thinking about how great my 'cream' tasted, and how he was gonna get plenty more before he was done with me. He was being corny, but I was too turned on to tease him about it. My knees had flopped in either direction, exposing me to him, and he was staring at me like I was a big, juicy, undercooked steak (his favorite kind). Then he took my hands and placed them against his face again.

"Are you able to keep doing that?" he asked. He still really wanted to know what it felt like for me, when he licked me.

"Sure," I grinned.

"Oh, man," he beamed, and then he was kissing me.

Boy, was it good. His lips were locked to mine, and his body was pressed full against me, and his hardness dug into... huh?

"Oh, you're still... I mean, you didn't... it wasn't fun?" I asked, confused. My hands dropped to my sides again in shock.

He didn't get what I meant at first, so I slid a hand down the front of his underwear, and he realized what I was talking about.

"I felt exactly what you felt," he grinned. "I didn't ejaculate, but I think that's because the muscles I could feel moving inside me then... well, I don't actually have those muscles." He was beaming. "Damn, that was good. I really wanna do it again, some time."

He gave me a long, sweet kiss, thanking me for sharing it with him. I thought about it for a few seconds, wondering how he could think it was so great if he didn't actually come, but then I remembered something else I'd once caught in Amelia's thoughts, about some guy she'd been with who practiced an arcane form of magic that used sexual energy to power it, and had trained himself to have orgasms without ejaculating. I got the impression from her thoughts that it was a rare and difficult thing for a man to be able to do, but it was possible at least...

"You OK?" He could feel my distraction and wanted to know what was wrong.

"I'm good," I smiled shyly. "I was just figuring that out... what just happened, I mean. For you."

"About the greatest sexual experience of my life, is what just happened for me."

I raised an eyebrow before I could stop myself, because of all the different things he'd done, I doubted that fingering me was the very best.

"You don't get it, do you?" he marveled. "You don't even realize what you just did for me?" He could tell, just looking at my face, that I didn't. "Babe, how many guys in the world actually know how sex feels for a woman? I assume Barry does, and Hunter 'overhears' but doesn't really understand yet, and I guess there's a smattering of male telepaths around the world who do... and the odd witch who's handy at astral travel or possession spells... and demons and stronger vampires can sense a lot from any human they've bonded... and fairies can tune into their mate's feelings... but at most, in the entire world, there's maybe a few thousand guys who actually _know _what sex feels like to women, and none of them are shifters. My kind don't have that power. Except I'm so lucky, I'm mated to someone who not only has that power, but shares it with me occasionally." He gave me another goofy grin. "Honestly, I think I learned more about how women's bodies work in the last half hour, than I did in the last twenty years, and it's not like I wasn't trying, all that time. No wonder you're so incredible, when you can feel exactly what you're doing to me, and sense every single thing that I want... god, I'm a lucky guy," he kissed me sweetly.

When he finally pulled away from my lips, I gave him a tiny smile, starting to understand why he might be so happy about what we just did.

"But even better than all that," he added, "is knowing for sure, that you really like being with me. I mean, it seems like you enjoy it, and you say it's great, but that's not the same as being certain. You get to know for sure how I feel, because you have your gift, but I don't have that. Feeling how great that was for you..." he couldn't find words to express how wonderful it was, so he went with humor instead. "I don't think this world's big enough to contain my ego any more, after that," he joked, before turning serious again. "Thank you," was all he could think to say about the experience. "Thank you for giving me that."

He kissed me sweetly again, showing me exactly how grateful he was for what I'd just done for him.

As my arms wrapped around him, I realized that right now, my telepathy really was a gift. Hearing how delighted he was that I loved having sex with him was a huge turn-on, and being able to share those feelings with him felt like a wonderful talent. Something that had always been a curse to me suddenly felt like a blessing, and I was so grateful for that, I wanted to share every good thing I could with him.

"Well if you think that was great," I whispered in his ear, "there's a few other things I should share with you, too."

But before I could whisper any more suggestions, he'd already decided which one he wanted to try next.


	40. Sharing

_Author's note: Apologies for the delay in updating; for some reason, this chapter took more re-drafting than any other I've written to date. Hope it's worth it!  
_

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I pressed my hands to either side of Quinn's face again, then pulled him down to kiss me, letting the sensations flow from my mind to his so he could feel how wonderful his skin felt against mine. He started grinding against my side, and the whole positive feedback loop started again, where he 'heard' how great something felt to me and did it even more, so he could feel me enjoy it some more. I pushed him down my body and he took the hint immediately, kissing his way along my jawline, my ear, my neck, my collarbone... and just when I was convinced he was going to take this really slow, he started licking my lightly bruised nipples, one at a time.

"Mmmmmmmmmm," was all I could say about that, writhing beneath him ecstatically.

He sighed happily, his mind flooded with feeling all over again. He was more used to it now, but that didn't stop him staring at me in awe. He was amazed by how wonderful this felt to me, the texture of his tongue on my nipples surprisingly enjoyable. He knew that werecats all loved the feel of a feline tongue, but it astonished him that I did, too.

It was great. Better than great; amazing. I wanted to tell him so, but I couldn't manage a single coherent word, the pleasure so intense it reduced my vocabulary to that of a wild animal: moans, groans, whimpers, whines, grunts, gasps, snarls, sighs - and a whole lot of heavy breathing. Boy, did the tiger part of him enjoy hearing that... not that the human part minded, either.

He stayed there only until I was completely lost in sensation again, then slowly moved down my body, kissing everything he found along the way. He lingered on my belly, thinking of what I said the night before, about wanting him to father my children. It felt like he was worshiping me, paying some incredible tribute to my body with his hands and mouth, and that was making me even wetter. I kept my hands pressed against his face, letting him feel what he was doing to me, and he looked up at me and smiled, thinking I deserved nothing less.

Then he was lapping up my juices, cheekily thinking, _Now I'm the cat that got the cream_ as his prickly tongue tormented me. He'd always wondered what this felt like - how great it must be, to get the reactions it did - and he thought I was doing him a huge favor, to give him the chance to experience it himself. For some reason, I didn't feel like I was doing him a favor at all.

He explored every surface with his tongue, discovering all of my anatomy as though for the very first time. Licking, sucking, nibbling, he slowly made his way to every tender crevice, finding out exactly how things felt to me as I lay limp beneath him, soaking up the glorious sensations. Feeling how wonderful this was for me, it was all he could do to keep making the minimal movements that were causing us both such intense pleasure.

Then his tongue snaked inside me, searching out the sensitive spots he'd found with his finger before. He couldn't quite reach the one I liked best, and for a moment he contemplated something, wondering how much I'd freak out if he did it. I didn't catch what he wanted to do, but I did 'hear' that if he did it, he'd be able to reach that spot I really wanted.

"Please," I begged, lifting my head up to watch him between my legs. "Please."

As he stared at me in wonder, his eyes turned from purple to amber, and I felt fangs part my soft blond curls... and then his tongue was right where I wanted it, rasping that wonderful spot, pushing surges of pleasure through my whole body. He'd somehow gotten bigger, longer, and pricklier all of a sudden, filling me completely with hot, rough tiger tongue. I let out a long, low moan, and then I was right there in record time, flooding his mouth with my juices as I trembled all over. Just like before, he felt everything I did, that toe-curling climax flowing straight from my mind to his. The look on his face was one of unequaled delight.

And just as I finished, he finally moved up to my nub, licking it as gently as his prickly tongue could. Of all the things he wanted to try while I shared every sensation, this was the one that held the greatest fascination. Half the fun of this, for him, had always been the intense reactions it got... and feeling exactly how sensitive that tiny pearl of flesh was, he suddenly understood why. It was as though the sea of super-sensitive nerves that fueled his own sexual pleasure were condensed into a much smaller space, so a great many of them could be reached all at once, with just the tip of his tongue. But as great as the physical sensations were, they weren't what caused the sharp intake of breath and the astonished look on his face as he felt how great this was for me.

The part that amazed him was the emotions I shared with him, as he romanced the single most sensitive part of me with his mouth. It wasn't just the overpowering gratitude I felt towards him for making me feel so great (a feeling he well understood, because he felt thankful for every drop of pleasure I gave him, too); it also made me feel incredibly close to him when we did this. To me, letting someone look and touch and taste the most private parts of me was about the most intimate thing possible. And on top of the inherent intimacy of it, doing this with him felt even more special, because even though other men had been there, I'd never felt like anyone actually _loved_ those parts of me before.

As my tender, adoring feelings flowed through to him, he looked up at me, his eyes purple again, smiling the softest smile I'd ever seen on a man's face. We were getting into a different sort of loop now, where feeling my love for him made him feel even more loving towards me, and vice versa. I was watching him intently, keeping my hands against his face so he would feel everything I did, as his mouth went wandering again. He lifted my hips off the bed to give him access, and then he was literally kissing me, kissing my other lips, with tongue and everything. It felt divine, and made those tender feelings swell in my chest even more. I offered him every part of me when we made love, and it was wondrous that he could accept all of me, _love_ all of me even. And then his tongue ventured a little further, to a place no tongue had ever been before, and for a moment I was stunned. He had 'heard' me think that he loved all of me, and he was showing me that he really, truly did. He was tracing circles around the that tight, sensitive opening, and it felt amazing. I had never even considered doing this; it had gone in the 'dirty and degrading' category by default, but now I'd tried it, it joined the 'oh, hell yes' list instead. I wasn't dirty at all there; I'd always kept myself really clean, but I'd been even more careful since I discovered how great it could feel to be fingered and fucked that other way. My moans got longer and louder, as my eyes closed and the sensations took over all conscious thought. My whole body had gone floppy, surrendered to him. It really did feel like he loved every inch of me; that no part of me was off-limits to him; that nothing I felt or desired should ever be hidden. My legs wrapped around him, holding him close to me, and he wrapped an arm around my waist, hugging me.

He licked up and down a few more times, exploring every part of me with his wonderful prickly tongue, until my legs started holding him even tighter, and he knew I wanted to come once more. Then his mouth slowly made its way back up again, until it was right where I wanted it most. I sighed happily. He was fine-tuning his movements second by second, determined to make this the best I'd ever had. It was. Pleasure was building fast within me, and I knew it wouldn't take me long to get there now.

His tongue worked my nub just a little longer, and then gentle, ecstatic waves were flowing through me, and from my mind to his, and from his back to mine... Even though the physical sensations started in my body alone, we were sharing exactly the same pleasure, and that single wonderful orgasm was somehow multiplied by being shared, not divided. To share oblivion was another level of intimacy altogether; my mind had emptied entirely, and yet, he was still there. Except my mind wasn't empty, it was only the conscious chatter that had been swept away... beneath that, it was like the ocean floor of my being was revealed to him, and if that experience hadn't been mutual, it would've been painful to be exposed so thoroughly. But that mingling of insensate needs brought us both comfort, feeling how deeply our desires matched and enmeshed. He was mine in every way, and I was offering him the same, needing to belong entirely to him as he did to me. I could feel that belonging meant family to him, and the only point of disagreement was how big a family that would be (he was thinking an even dozen; I was thinking more like three). And beneath that were the needs common to all people; for love and respect and a place to call home; to be needed and wanted and cared about. The pleasure ebbed slowly, and as it did, our minds disentangled, each slightly changed for the deep connection we had formed, until my hands finally fell back to my sides and we were two separate beings again.

We both lay there trembling afterward, and just when I couldn't go a moment longer without him cuddling me, he raised his head from where it was resting on my thigh and crawled up to kiss me. I had wondered if he would taste bad after what we'd just done, but he didn't; only a hint stronger and muskier than usual. We melted together some more, adoring each other with mouths and hands and skin against skin. He had my juices all over his face, and he had never been more beautiful to me than he was in that moment.

"Thank you," he murmured. "Thank you so much. That was just... wow."

"Um, shouldn't I be thanking you?" I giggled. "You're the one who's still got underwear on."

He glanced down for a second, realized I was right, and chuckled. "Damn... best sex of my life, and I didn't even get undressed," he shook his head. "I think I might like being with a telepath."

"Darn straight," I teased. "And I haven't even shown you how the best part of it feels, yet."

His eyes completely bugged out. "It gets better than that?"

I nodded, lazily pushing him onto his back and rolling on top of him, to show him what I thought was even better than him pleasuring me. "You know how I 'hear' everything you're feeling? Well, when you're getting lots of pleasure from what we're doing, too... it makes me come so hard, feeling that as well... it's really great." I clicked my fingers then, to remove the very last garment that separated us.

He gasped in realization at what I was about to do, then pulled me down to kiss him. I started wriggling, rubbing my nipples against his warm, hard chest to excite myself all over again. As he held me tight with one arm, he used the other to line us up so that whenever I wanted, I could slide back onto him and take him deep inside me. As we kept on kissing, I felt him rub his tip against my wetness, getting us both ready, and I couldn't help thinking of the amazing double-sensations I felt when we fucked. I was imagining how it would feel for him to experience the luscious sensation of ready, willing flesh stretching to accommodate him, just as I felt the pleasure of my soft, dripping body enveloping his cock.

I pressed my hands to either side of his face again and asked seductively, "Wanna know how great it feels when you're inside me?"

"God, yes," he muttered, pinching each of my nipples gently between thumb and forefinger, just to make me moan some more.

I whimpered and started sliding back, feeling my entrance stretch to take him. He groaned long and low, overloaded by the feel of my dripping flesh against the head of his cock, and the delicious stretching feeling I was sharing with him. I was used to feeling double-sensations during sex now, and it just seemed wonderful and hot and luscious to me, but to him, this was all new. He 'heard' that the intensity he was feeling was basically normal for me, and he smiled up at me, glad that I got pleasure from his pleasure.

I grinned back, thinking that I didn't need to be telepathic to love fucking him; remembering how he looked at me every time we did this; the noises he made; the way he pulled me to him and kissed me; and that adoring look he gave me as we cuddled afterward... of course, he 'heard' all of that, and his mind flared with happiness.

Before he could respond, I was sliding back onto him, feeling the sensation of soft, wet flesh enveloping his cock, just as he felt the sensation of him sliding into me. He was staring at me, panting and trilling "oh, oh, oh" as he felt how amazing this was for me. I moved up just a little, feeling the way my lips clung to him as I did, then slid down just a little more, taking him into me inch by inch. He couldn't take his eyes off me, thinking how incredible I was as the double-sensations rendered him speechless. The only thought in his head was how glad he was that I felt so good when we made love.

I smiled and kept moving, my body stretching more with each slow slide onto him, until he was finally all the way inside me. Then I ground my clit hard against him, and he screamed and tried to pull my hands away from his face.

"Won't last," he panted. "Too much."

He was trying to explain that just the feel of me sliding up and down his cock was always enough to make him come, so adding this much extra stimulation wasn't entirely good. Feeling how amazing it was for me while we did this, he could only last if he concentrated on making it even better for me. But add the incredible sensation when I ground against him as well, and there was no way he could last; it was far more pleasure than he ever needed to get off, and no amount of distraction could stop him from coming quickly when he felt that.

He wished with all his heart that he could soak in the incredible sensations I was sharing with him and still be able to keep going, but he didn't know any way to do that.

I did.

I wasn't sure how he would react to my idea, but as soon as he 'heard' me think it, his mind snarled up in excitement. I ran my right hand down from the side of his face to stroke the scar on his neck, then thought about what we both wanted, feeling fairy magic spark through me as my will took form. I considered all the ways I could command him, from the outright cruel to the positively pleasant. Of course, I went for the most enjoyable option of all: making it possible for him to feel orgasm after orgasm, but stay hard inside me the whole time. He stared at me in awe, delighted by what I'd decided to do to him. When he'd 'heard' me think I could make him stay hard, he thought I was going to make it impossible for him to come until I was done with him - but I could do far better than that, and so I did.

There was one small catch, of course: he could only get there at the exact instant I did, so if he wanted to take advantage of the added capacity for pleasure I'd just given him, he had to spend all his time pleasuring _me_. He 'heard' that and just grinned, knowing that wouldn't be a problem. He'd put a lot of time into learning his way around my body, and was confident he knew a lot of my little triggers now; the things that could push me over the edge at just the moment he wanted, once he'd got me close enough.

I moved my hand back to his face again, making sure he would feel everything as our lovemaking recommenced. I sat right up so I could look him over, letting my lust flow through to him as I did. Staring at his body always made me horny, and when he was naked beneath me, every instinct screamed at me to turn that lust into action. All my wicked ideas flowed straight from my mind to his, showing him the myriad ways I wanted to have him and use him and make him all mine. His entire reaction was one big _yes,_ because he loved every one of my naughty fantasies, reminding me once more that he really wasn't a man with many hang-ups.

As I slowly started riding him again, the shared pleasure pulled our minds closer and closer together, as though they could join as fully as our bodies were. He was watching me move, thinking how beautiful I was, how lucky he was to have me, and how glad he was that fucking him felt so wonderful to me. I felt grateful that he cared so much about pleasing me, but he wouldn't accept my gratitude for an instant. To him, there was nothing selfless about satisfying his mate: it was simply necessary to keep a sexual relationship going strongly. He had figured out a long time ago that making sex with him a mutually fulfilling experience made it much more likely a woman would want to be with him again - and he wanted me to be with him every day for the rest of our lives, so of course he was going to do all he could to please me, every single time. He also knew that just one instance of egregious sexual selfishness could completely undermine the trust that had taken us so long to build up. He loved that he now had permission to touch and kiss and try to turn me on whenever he wanted, so of course he was going to make sure it always worked out well for me - he felt like it benefited him to do that, even more than it benefited me.

'Hearing' all that made me feel really selfish, because like always, I was getting carried away and using his body to pleasure myself, moving harder and faster as I started to feel like I could reach my peak soon. I felt doubly guilty because every time I even thought about using him this way, my body flooded with moisture, thrilled by the fantasy of treating him like my own personal sex slave. But he just grinned at me.

"Please," he started begging. "Please come for me... please, babe, please."

Oh, boy. He was begging _me_ to have an orgasm, right now, please. It was a huge turn-on, hearing him plead like that.

I lay down on his chest and whispered right in his ear, "Mmmm, I love hearing you beg me to come... can you feel how wet it makes me, when you beg like that? I think you're gonna spend a lot of your life, begging me to come for you."

He literally trembled beneath me, wondering what he'd gotten himself into, asking to be claimed and mated by a woman who would torment him so mercilessly... and then a half-second later, he was stretching his neck out in offering to me, because he couldn't think of anything _better_ than being sexually tortured by me. I laughed and nipped his scar, delighting in his surrender to me. "Mine," I growled at him.

"Yes, yours," he murmured, staring right at me, still mentally begging me to _please come for me, oh please, please come now_.

I moved slowly and steadily as he watched in rapt anguish, wishing I would take him hard and fast again so I'd come soon and he could finally go over the edge too. But I kept my pace slow and steady until I was finally there. The second he felt my orgasm start, he was able to come too, in a feedback loop of shared pleasure that left us both dizzy and breathless. I kept moving gently the whole time, drawing it out, and it was beyond brilliant. When I finally realized why it was so great, I couldn't help coming again immediately: something about my fairy magic had let him erupt inside me and still stay hard, and my insides felt so hot and wet there was practically no friction now, just the feel of him filling me.

"Oh, so great," I gasped as the second wave crashed into me, flowing through my hands into his mind so he could feel it too.

Even though his body was in some weird forced state that was amazing and uncomfortable at the same time, feeling how much he was pleasing me was the greatest joy on earth for him. When I finally finished shuddering on top of him, he silently reminded me that if we weren't trying to get pregnant right now, I should store his sperm for later on when we were. As soon as he thought it, my muscles milked him in a different way, storing the material I would need when it was time to make our children. Feeling the whole assembly moving inside me, I finally realized how it all worked: there was another set of tubes leading from the storage pouches straight to my ovaries, so I could fertilize my own eggs before any other sperm had the chance to get near them. He heard me realize that and grinned fiercely, thinking how hot I would look, quote, _all ripe and swollen with our cubs._

Feeling the way he would worship me for my seemingly-magic ability to bring new life into the world, my insides started twitching again, and I knew that I needed just a little more. I started moving again, rubbing my body against his, feeling the pleasure of skin against skin and hard inside wet, knowing it wouldn't take much to get me off again because I was still half-high from last time. But he knew that I needed more, and his hands found my nipples, and suddenly it was all perfect. I had another gasping, shuddering orgasm on top of him, seeing stars as the pleasure exploded right through me. This time, I screamed his name so loudly I surely woke the dead next door.

And when I was just about done, I had a cruel, evil, tantalizingly erotic idea...

I took my hands from his face before he could 'overhear', gave him a peck on the lips and said, "Thanks honey, that was great," getting up off him as I did.

"You're done?" He stared at me in horror, still trapped by my fairy magic, painfully hard and unable to come unless I did.

"You've worn me out." I stretch languidly on the bed beside him, doing my best to look completely satisfied. It wasn't difficult.

"But... but..." he sputtered, glancing briefly at his cock, then looking away again because seeing how engorged he was just made him hurt all the more. He rolled towards me, cuddling me and pressing against me, hoping I just needed a small reminder of the state I'd left him in.

"Mmm, still hard," I murmured, faking post-coital drowsiness as I moved my hands down to stroke and tease him some more. Playing 'tease the supernaturally strong predator' probably wasn't the most sensible game, but it sure was fun. "You want some more?"

He groaned in my ear - the most delicious sound of agony - then started begging me again, just like I'd hoped he would. "Please," he whimpered. "Please, please let me get you off again. Please babe, just once more."

I was secretly delighted, because he could've just demanded I take the darn fairy magic off him so he could finish himself off, but he didn't.

"But I'm so tired," was all I said, though.

"I'll do everything," he promised. "Just please, please let me make you come again. Oh god, please."

I couldn't hide the way my body reacted to his begging - he could smell exactly how wet he was making me - so I pulled him in for another long smooch. He kissed me frantically, his whole body trembling with need. Oddly, his desperation made me feel really safe: any other man would've taken what he needed by force long before he got to this point, but my boyfriend still wanted my permission first.

"I love teasing you," I whispered, unable to keep my joy in this to myself any longer. "I love making you beg."

He stared at me, wild-eyed and breathing hard, his mind so lust-addled it took him a long moment to process what I'd said and realize the game I was playing. When he finally did, a huge grin broke across his face, and a moment later, he was thinking of the one thing he would beg hardest for. He was kissing me again an instant later, moving me just where he wanted me as he silently kept begging,_ please let me get you off again, please babe, I'll do anything you want, god please, please babe, have to watch you come again, please, please..._

I'd 'heard' what he wanted to do - I'd 'heard' him fantasize about it before, so I knew how much he wanted this - but still, it was a surprise to feel exactly how thrilled he was, seeing me right where he wanted me. He'd somehow managed to locate two pillows, pick me up, place both of them under my hips and lay me on my back on top of them, in about half a second, kissing me frantically the whole time. Then he was on top of me, between my legs, staring at me for just a moment before he devoured my lips some more. I expected to feel him slide inside me and pressed my hands to his face so he could feel how desperately I wanted him to, but he didn't do it yet.

Instead, he rubbed the head of his cock all along my wetness, coating it thoroughly as he watched my face from mere inches away, seeing how I writhed and moaned as he did; feeling how desperate this made me, as the feeling flowed from my mind to his. Then he was rubbing against my clit, and all I could do was stare and whimper.

"Come for me," he begged. "Please, please come for me. God, please, let me watch you. Please babe, please."

I managed to gasp "yes" a few times, as he expertly built pleasure within me, feeling everything I did and loving every moment of it. Then he made a small movement and his cock was flat against me, sandwiched between my lips so that sensitive spot on his underside rubbed against my clit with every gentle thrust. I stared at him and moaned loudly, amazed by how good that felt. I'd caught in his thoughts a couple of times that the magic button was like the tip of an iceberg; that there were two 'legs' of the same super-sensitive tissue that extended all the way along the sides of that entrance (which he sometimes gently stroked while he licked me, creating the most incredible sensations). Right now, he was rubbing all of it, all at once, and the pleasure was so intense I knew I had that 'about to go into orbit' expression on my face.

"Please come for me," he kept on begging. "Come so hard for me, god please scream for me. Show me what I do to you, please babe."

Between the sound of his desperate pleading and the feel of his cock sliding against my wet, swollen lips, it was maybe only a minute 'til I was right there, so close, about to explode... but just as I got there, he eased right off, giving me barely enough stimulation to keep me right on edge. He watched my face as he did, feeling how marvelous and maddening his teasing was for me. Whatever control I'd had over him was completely gone; I needed him every bit as much as he needed me, and we both knew it. If he wanted me to beg now, I would. But as soon as he 'heard' me think that, he grinned and finally thrust just that little bit harder.

As brilliant bolts of electricity shot up my spine, I stared at him and screamed my head off, just like he asked me to. My hands were still on his face and he could feel how incredible this was for me, but he didn't make a sound, just grinned and enjoyed the show as my whole body shook in near-convulsions. I had expected him to come the moment he could, spilling sticky fluid all over my belly, but he didn't. He just watched me explode, savoring the shared sensations, studying my ecstatic facial expressions from mere inches away. When I could finally think again, I was surprised I hadn't deafened him, screaming so loudly right beside his ears.

But as soon as the show was over, he was kissing me frantically again, desperate to put on a show of his own. He placed his head at my entrance and pushed in ever-so-slightly, just enough to remind me how much I loved to be suddenly crammed full of him while my insides were still trembling with aftershocks. I wrapped my legs around him tightly, eager to feel him, but he didn't do what I wanted. I stared at him in shock, feeling exactly how much he needed to come, wondering why he wasn't fucking me yet. Then I realized why: it was my turn to beg.

"Oh god, John, please fuck me," I whimpered against his lips.

He kissed me some more, moving in tiny thrusts right against my entrance, teasing me mercilessly. I pressed my hands even harder against his face, pushing the full force of my desperation through to him, hoping he'd feel it and take me right away. He didn't. I probed his mind momentarily and saw exactly what he wanted. I thought about it for only a second before deciding that even if there was a small risk it'd work, I would gladly act out his second-favorite fantasy. (His favorite involved my neck, his fangs, and a bite that would mark me as his for the rest of my life... and if that'd been the fantasy he wanted to act out right now, I would've been just as eager to do that, too.)

"My mate," I gasped, knowing exactly what he needed to hear. "I'm yours, all yours. Come inside me, please?"

Even saying that much, my nipples ached to be pinched and bitten. Feeling my need, he shifted his weight to one hand and used the other to torment the tender little buds, inflicting the most exquisite of agonies; agonies that made me ache even more for him.

"Oh, fuck, please," I demanded, momentarily forgetting what he really wanted to hear. Then my eyes locked to his again, and I couldn't help grinning at him, thinking of what I was about to say. "My tiger," I purred. "Mmmm... make me pregnant with your cubs, please?"

I knew exactly how long he'd been wanting to hear me say that, and I expected him to lose control and take me roughly, overcome by lust... but that wasn't what happened. Instead, we were both overcome by the most incredibly sense of love, belonging and soul-deep need for each other, and as he slid all the way into me, it was like two pieces of a puzzle clicking together. We were looking into each other's eyes and kissing tenderly, as he moved sweetly and slowly, savoring the feel of my body beneath his. Even if we were most likely just playing for now (it was highly unlikely it'd actually work, this time of the month) it was still an incredibly special moment, for both of us.

"My tiger," I smiled up at him softly, adoring this strong smart beautiful man who was truly all mine.

"My fairy princess," he rasped back, choked up with emotion at the things he was feeling from me.

The sexual pleasure we both felt was secondary, now; our coupling was fueled by a feeling of love so deep we would choose to make new life together, and he could feel I was offering him parts of myself I had never offered anyone, just as he had given me every last part of himself. The physical merging was smooth and seamless, but the emotional merging was new to both of us, full of false starts and rough edges... but still, in its own way, perfect.

I was completely open to him; not only physically, but in every possible sense. I was wounded and damaged in so many ways, but he still thought me perfect; still wanted all of me; still loved me completely and would give me all that he could. It wasn't simply that I loved and wanted him in return; there was another, more important feeling there now, a feeling almost entirely foreign to me: trust. I had faith in this man above all others; trusted him to stay with me, to never again betray me, to be a wonderful father to our children. He had placed so much trust in me, and finally, I could fully return it; I finally knew enough of him to truly believe. As I shared those feelings with him, tears formed in his eyes and he stared at me, his heart full of joy that I felt that way about him, too. With every fiber of his being, he vowed to be worthy of that trust, so I would never regret opening myself to him like this. I made the same promise to him.

Our minds entwined fully, leaving no barriers between him and I. We could each feel how deeply we were wanted by the other, and it was bliss. All the fantasies we'd each entertained about our future together were merging into a single pool of hope, devotion and overpowering lust. For me, it was all wedding and babies and sharing a life; for him, it was creating and raising our 'cubs' - although he was happy to humor me with a human wedding, knowing how much it meant to me. (Especially if we got some time alone on the day so he could hitch up the skirt of the big white dress he knew I'd want, wriggle down the bodice, and make me scream his name a few times.)

For a moment, I felt the most overpowering urge to have him bite me; my entire being longing for the feel of long, sharp tiger fangs sliding into the vulnerable flesh of my neck, and the feeling of belonging and surrender I knew would come with it. But he just kissed me, silently telling me that we didn't have to practice any, quote, _barbaric old shifter customs that could leave you enslaved to me_, and started thinking of all the other ways he wanted to make me his, whether he marked my neck or not.

First, there was an image of me, giddy with happiness in the way newly-engaged human women always seemed to be, showing my hand to everyone around so they could see the ring he'd placed on it. Then, there was an image of us making love when we both knew I was fertile, his hands rubbing my breasts and belly as he thought about how they would ripen and swell; in his fantasy, the idea of him making me pregnant turned me on just as much as it did him, and I moaned and squirmed, coming over and over as I thought about what he was doing to me. Then, there were a whole set of images of us making love as my body slowly changed, each week bringing a new set of sensations and possibilities as our child grew inside me. It was one area where he did want to follow shifter customs, preparing his mate for the birth of our 'cub' with plenty of orgasms to keep the muscles of my womb toned, frequent fingering to encourage my body to stretch rather than tear, and a whole lot of very fun-looking nipple 'exercises' to make sure I'd have a strong flow of milk, when the time came.

I stared at him wide-eyed, nodding over and over as my mind screamed _yes yes yes_. We could each barely manage a few delighted moans, but mentally, we were both screaming in pleasure at the thought of the life we would share together.

Unfortunately, even though our actual screaming hadn't woken Hunter, our mental screaming did. As he stirred to momentary wakefulness, I felt him register what was going on, and thankfully it didn't bother him - he'd already 'seen' that Quinn and I would figure out how to make deep telepathic contact with each other, and even though we were apparently a little ahead of schedule, that pleased him somehow. But as soon as he 'heard' what we were thinking about, a flood of images burst into his mind, showing me an altogether different version of things... and because I was sharing everything I felt with him, Quinn saw them as well. Then, just a few seconds after he woke, he was back in the deepest of slumbers, leaving us alone again.

The images were weird (and I was pretty sure, wrong) for a whole list of reasons. For a start, instead of the big church wedding I'd always dreamed of, this one was taking place in the fairy meadow, with only a few very special guests. That part didn't bother my boyfriend, since churches made him uncomfortable... but the next part perplexed him as much as it did me. Instead of Father Andrews, who baptized me and I always swore would marry me, too, the person conducting the ceremony was... Eric. And he actually looked pleased about it. We both found that too bizarre to contemplate; surely this was some strange half-awake dream, rather than one of Hunter's visions of the future?

On top of that, I was hugely pregnant - by the look of me, about eleven months pregnant - which is basically the worst state a bride could be in. _No, pregnant with a whole litter!_ Quinn corrected, his mind buzzing as though that was the most exciting thing he'd ever seen in his life. I almost slapped him, realizing just in time that he wasn't being funny; he thought of his future children as 'cubs', so of course if I had twins, he'd call them a 'litter'. _Not just twins, triplets or quads!_ was his delighted response to that, and I decided I just couldn't think about that possibility any more, either.

But that wasn't the worst part of it; not by far. The worst thing in those garbled images was the way I was glowing in my gorgeous dress (which was exactly as I'd always imagined it, except I was weirdly wearing a wreath of glossy green leaves instead of a veil). I wasn't just glowing in my usual 'halfling in a fairy meadow' way, or with happiness over marrying someone I love, or even in the way so many pregnant women do... no, this was definitely Afterglow. In the weird images in Hunter's mind, I'd been having sex for most of the afternoon before my sunset wedding... and not just with my soon-to-be-husband. No, I was the debauched bride who'd just been having sex with her ex as well. At the same time. No wonder I couldn't have a church wedding, and no priest would marry me. With my huge pregnant belly, plus a fresh tiger bite on one side of my neck and a fresh vampire bite on the other as I walked down 'the aisle', I looked fit to marry Satan himself. I felt sure this wasn't one of Hunter's visions, just some strange dream he'd had... but Quinn wasn't so sure, because how would a child his age think up some of that sex stuff?

And even worse than the all-wrong wedding images, was what was happening in that very moment. Those explicit scenes set my whole body on fire, lust burning through me and making me silently beg my boyfriend, for _harder, more, please..._ demanding that he fuck me with a force that wouldn't let either of us last much longer. Not that I needed him to - even though I was sure some of the stuff in those images wasn't physically possible, the mere thought of it had sparks shooting up my spine, so close to orgasm there was no way I could stop. A horrible mix of pleasure and shame flooded through me.

For the first time ever, Quinn showed me the power he would have over me if he claimed me as his mate. He nipped my neck, hard, his blunt human teeth putting so much pressure on my skin that even when I was this turned on, it hurt. I loved it. That feeling I longed for swept through me: a sense that I was exactly where I belonged; a desire to give myself to this wonderful man in every way I could, over and over. As soon as he felt that, he pulled back to look me in the eye, his expression burning with intensity. He silently commanded me then, telling me that as his mate, I wasn't going to feel ashamed of the things I wanted... and to my surprise, my shame just melted away.

A moment later, my mind was drowning in the most immoral delights and I was shamelessly writhing beneath him, keeping my hands pressed to his face so he could share the pleasure that coursed through my whole body, just thinking about the things in those images. He grinned as he watched me melt, thinking of the lifetime of sexual adventures he planned to have with me. He didn't want the tepid friendship so many human marriages became, or the joyless submission shifter breeding practices often demanded; he wanted me just like this, year after year: sharing my deepest lusts with him as he pounded me to heaven and back.

I couldn't stop the animal howl that escaped my lips, or the convulsions that shook me from head to toe, or the forceful milking my body gave his cock, then... but of course, I really didn't want to. He had me in that state of bliss that wouldn't stop, where as long as he kept moving within me, surges of pleasure kept wracking my body, pushing me to ever-higher peaks of delight... peaks he scaled right with me, the feelings surging from my mind to his. After barely a minute of continuous coming, I was so satisfied I felt like I might never need to fuck again... but would certainly want to anyway.

And just as my own climax subsided and a deep sense of satisfaction flooded into me, my fairy magic released him, finally making it possible for him have his own happy ending. A deep animal instinct kicked in and he made a maneuver no human could, pulling partway out, then sliding inside me in a particular way to line himself up with my deepest opening, pressing hard on that spot I loved as he did. Then he was roaring above me, his mind full of love for me, filling me more deeply than anyone ever had.

That was all it took to set me off again, and and we were suddenly both being tumbled in an ocean of feeling, our beings mixing together in a way that could never be untangled. I could somehow feel his essence spilling into my womb, and incredible as that sensation was, it was nowhere near as amazing as our deepest feelings each spilling deep into the other's mind, revealing the essence of who we both were. It was indescribably exquisite.

I melted so much that my hands slipped from his face, and abruptly, that link was lost. We just lay as we were, looking into each other's eyes for the longest time, as we each started to make sense of the feelings that had flooded in from the other, leaving some indelible imprint of his being on me, and mine on him. Then he closed the tiny gap and kissed me again, and I wrapped my arms around him and clung to him.

"OK, I officially _love_ being with a telepath," he whispered in my ear, as soon as he could form words again. "That was magnificent."

I got the giggles then, basking in the glow of being loved so deeply, swimming in the heavenly hormones left over from fantastic fucking. He kissed me again, and I brushed my hand against his face so he could feel how deeply I loved him, too, before I went back to hugging him.

Then a naughty thought crossed my mind. "So, got any special shifter sex tricks you wanna show me?" I cheekily asked him.

And just like that, his good mood was gone, and he was nervous instead. "Yeah, we need to talk about that," he confessed. "If I'm gonna mark you... well, there's a few things you need to know. And I'll understand if you don't want me to do it after all, once you know what's involved."

He got up off me, withdrawing from my body, pulling away from me defensively before I could push him away myself, because that's what he expected me to do when I heard what he had to say.

But already I knew that nothing he could say would change my mind.


	41. Meaning

_A/N: Just to clarify, in the previous chapter Hunter woke for 10 seconds at most - like when you hear a noise and your brain clicks into semi-alertness to make sure you're not in danger, then you're fast asleep again and probably don't even remember waking up. He was awake long enough for Sookie to overhear a few __addled _half-asleep thoughts, and no longer... because there's kinky and then there's just wrong! ;)  


* * *

"Sookie, if we do this, your life's gonna change. A lot." Quinn was stroking my neck as he said it, thinking about biting me there.

Finally, he was telling me what it meant to be marked as a shifter's mate. It felt like I'd been waiting an age for this, although it had really been... what, three days? He wouldn't claim me unless he was sure I knew what I was getting myself into because once it was done, it couldn't be undone if I didn't like the effects. So this conversation was possibly one of the most important I'd ever have.

"Change how?" I asked.

He looked deadly serious. "For a start, if I mark you most Supes will treat you differently. They'll act as though I own you, and ask me things they should ask you, as though I decide what you do and when. The annoying ones will talk to me about you when you're standing right there, as though I speak for you as well. They'll assume that's the kind of relationship we have when they see my mark on you."

"But won't the mark on your neck confuse them? Won't that show them you're not actually the boss of me?"

"Sure, and me repeatedly telling them to ask the fairy might get through to them eventually, too." He was so honored to have a part-fairy mate that he would happily tell the whole world he couldn't command me - but he didn't expect most of them to listen. "Some of them will know that in a halfling-shifter couple, the shifter isn't the boss, but most of them won't. And I'm not just talking about other weres here, vampires will assume your mate owns you once they see a bite mark, and most witches will, too. It's only other elementals - fae and demons - who'll know that you're still your own person." He was convinced this would be the whole discussion; that I'd change my mind about him marking my neck as soon as I heard that. "And with humans, you'll need a cover story about being attacked by an animal to explain the scar."

"So I'll tell 'em the truth, then," I joked. "This really gorgeous tiger caught me and mated me, and it was so great I took him home to keep as my special house cat. I'm sure humans will understand, once they hear about tigers' stamina."

He laughed out loud, thinking how narrow-minded humans could be about people who were sometimes animals.

I kept on kidding around, adding, "And as for vampires... this'll really piss off the ones who think _they_ own me, won't it?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, but I hope your main reason for wanting to do this isn't to spite your ex."

"It was a joke," I hastily explained. "I didn't know that until you just said it, and it's really not why I want to do this. My fairy instincts say it's the right thing to do, and they've guided me pretty well so far. I don't care what anyone else thinks. I know you're important and powerful and have a reputation to protect in the Supe world, but I -"

He interrupted me with a loud, derisive snort. "Don't worry about me. I won't mind if I end up being known for one of the few good things in my life," he stroked the scar on his neck lovingly, "instead of all the bad things I've done."

"OK, so neither of us care what anyone else thinks or says or does. This feels right, so we should do it. End of story."

"It's not quite that simple," he grumbled.

"Because this also has something to do with shifter sex tricks?" I was trying to keep things lighthearted and funny, but it didn't work.

"Among other things." He pulled the bed sheet up over himself, hiding his naked form from me - something I had never seen him do before. To shifters, nudity was no big deal, and normally he enjoyed me looking at him. It was weird, seeing him behave as though he was ashamed of his body; so out-of-character it gave me pause, and then I wanted to cover myself, too. I grabbed the sheet and pulled it over me, still lying on my side, facing him.

He lay there in stony silence for a while, figuring out what he ought to tell me first. "I swore I would never do this," he finally began. "I promised my Dad, just before he died, that I wouldn't mark my mate; that I wouldn't hurt you like that."

I was too shocked to say anything; this was stuff he kept behind one of the closed doors in his mind, so I had no idea.

"My Mom... her problems weren't all down to two really awful days. If she'd been OK mentally, before what happened... eventually, she would've been OK again. But she wasn't. I mean, it wouldn't have even happened if..." he trailed off, too upset to say any more.

I still couldn't figure out what to say, so I just waited for him to talk again, which took a full minute.

"Didn't you ever wonder how they were able to do that to her?" he grilled me. "She's a fully grown adult weretiger, and one hell of a hunter... they were all dead in half an hour once I found her, and I wasn't fully grown yet, and I'd barely begun learning to hunt... Didn't you ever wonder how a few stupid humans were able to overpower her?" He gave me a pointed look, expecting an answer.

"I heard she was badly injured," I offered. "That she'd been caught in a bear trap."

He snorted again and thrust one of his legs out from under the bed sheet, pointing at a scar above his ankle: almost-straight lines on either side of his calf.

"That's from a bear trap?"

"Sure," he shrugged. "Bear traps hold us for five minutes, tops."

"But how did you escape?"

"Shifted back and pulled it off. I had a slight limp for a couple days afterward, but that's about it."

"So you're saying it wasn't your Mom's injuries that made it possible for them to do that to her?"

He shook his head sadly. "She didn't fight back... didn't do anything to resist except tell them they were hurting her. She'd had all the other instincts knocked out of her by the pack of panthers my Dad ran with, so she'd be a good shifter and mate with whoever she was told. That's how being mated usually turns out for women, and I'm not gonna do that to you."

"Isn't it the pack rituals that do that, though? The ones they put imprinting couples through? It's not just the bite mark that does it, I can feel that me biting you hasn't made you like that at all."

"No, it hasn't," he conceded, "but even if we did all the rituals, I wouldn't be the one weakened by it. Even imprinting the way we have... I worry about it. I didn't think you'd imprint like shifters do, but you have. Really strongly, too."

"But it's not bad," I protested. "The things that've happened over the last few days... I understand you so much better than I did before, and you understand me. I know what to do to make you happy and it feels natural to do it, and you do all the things that make me happy... Then there's the sex stuff, which is just... wow," I shot him an amazed grin. "And when we actually find time to train, I'm learning faster because I can feel your fighting instincts like they're becoming my own... plus I can share my telepathy with you easily now, so you see all the stuff beneath the surface too. Imprinting doesn't seem like a bad thing to me, because all the stuff that's happened is really good. You wanted to take that extra step and have me mark you as well, and I want that too."

"I know," he commiserated, "but you wanting that is cause by the imprinting. A week ago, did you have any desire for me to make a big mess of your neck with my fangs?"

"No, but it's not just the imprinting that makes me want it. I can work out what's right for me, and this is. I've felt what being marked has done for you... how great it felt when I did it, how great it feels every time I touch the scar, and that sense you have of knowing exactly where you belong... I want all that, too. And as for the whole fairy princess thing you make such a big deal about... I can feel when things are out of balance, and this," I pointed from me to him and back again, "is out of balance. A mated pair are supposed to belong to each other, not one belong to the other. It doesn't work out right, that way."

"True, but this still worries me. The control my Dad had over my Mom... it wasn't right. I don't want that much control over you. I don't want this to end up making you crazy, too."

"But it's not the same," I reminded him. "I've already marked you. I'll belong to you, but you already belong to me, and my fairy instincts say that's how it's meant to be. Besides, you won't have the control you'd have over a shifter women, because I'm part-fae. I can always resist anyone's command. If something isn't right for me and I don't want to do it, you won't be able to make me."

"I don't want you to have to fight me," he argued. "Not ever."

"Then don't try to make me do anything you know I'll hate," I shot back.

"I won't," he fumed. "I wouldn't. I'm not that kind of-"

"I know," I interrupted, then softened my voice to stop the argument. "That's why I'm OK about giving you as much control over me as I have over you, now. I trust you to not ever misuse that. I know you'll only use it if you genuinely believe something's right for me, not just to get your own way, and only if there's a good reason to do it that way instead of just asking me. That's what this means to me, that I trust you as much as you trust me."

He looked stunned. "I hadn't ever thought of it that way. I've heard so much about what's wrong about marking a mate, I guess I never really thought about what's right... and it did feel right, when you marked me. God, it felt right," he grinned, his voice all husky. "And the stuff that being marked is said to do... it wasn't you biting me that started it. It was already happening, and when you finally bit me, it just felt like confirmation of what we are to each other. And it seems like that's already happening for you, too?"

I nodded, smiling. "Like whatever you want suddenly seeming like the hottest thing on earth to me, just like whatever I want instantly seems like a great idea to you?"

He was surprised that of all the different effects being mated had on a person, I'd mentioned that one first... and even more so, that I seemed to like the idea. I could 'hear' that he thought I'd object to doing something that would make me lust for whatever he wanted.

"Oh, I would if you were specific about it!" I agreed. "But mostly, you just want to get me alone and naked and see what happens. So I get... well, kinda tingly in all the right places," I blushed, "whenever you want me, and it's hot to feel you wanting me that way. You know how great it is when the person you want is really into you..."

"Sure," he beamed, thinking of how hungry for him I looked when we made love. "I guess that's one of the good things about all this: lust becomes mutual very quickly, for a mated couple. After a while you can't work out who wanted something first, because as soon as one wants anything, the other does, too."

I beamed and bit my lip. "I like that," I purred. "Feeling what I want become what you want, too... it's so great. And that thing where you tell me to come now, and my body just does... and I love being able to do that to you, too. And when you bit my neck before and commanded me to stop feeling ashamed of the things that turn me on, and all the shame just melted away... that was so, so great."

He smiled back for a moment, then turned serious again. "It's not just about sex, though. Some of those effects... they're not as hot, outside the bedroom. Do you really want me to be able to tell you to do something, and -"

This time, I snorted loudly at him. "Of course it's about sex. This whole thing... shifters get together and mate to have cubs. The purpose of it is to take a couple who are compatible and kinda glue them together permanently to have them breed lots, right? And -"

"No, shifters imprint to make sure their relationship works. When your mate is fated, you don't get a choice in who it is, and once they've claimed you it's permanent, so there has to be a safeguard to make sure people don't get stuck with an abusive mate who they can never leave, and imprinting is it. We're born completely compatible with our mate, but personality is so shaped by experience that if the wrong things happen along the way, it can mess that up. But -"

"How?" I interrogated. "If we're fated to be together, how can anything mess that up?"

"Most of what happens in your life isn't fated. Even having a fated mate is more than most people get these days. So, say the first person you ever loved was sent to seduce you by someone who wanted you as their shiny new toy... and the next person you loved forgot all about it and basically turned on you... it's not going to be easy to trust anyone again, after that. Especially if your idiotic mate, who already knew some of what you'd been through, disappeared after we made love the first few times, and reappeared weeks later with a bunch of vampires who wanted to kill you," he gave me an apologetic look. "Probably none of that was fated to happen to you, but it did, and if you weren't imprinting it would take years to fix all those trust issues."

"So what's imprinting gonna fix for you?"

He thought about it for a few seconds before he answered, "I can actually belong somewhere again. My whole family were gone by the time I was fourteen... my Dad died, and Mom went nuts, and then I wasn't able to see her any more and had to fend for myself in the pits... I was too young to have no-one, so every time I had a chance to form a connection with another person, I took it. Man, I got myself into some messed-up stuff. After a while, I stopped looking for a place to belong and tried to just keep things fun, so if a relationship started getting messy and complicated, I left. So when you were suddenly blood-bonded to Eric, I wasn't sure if I should stay because I didn't think anyone could feel like home to me, because no-one else ever has... I'm not making much sense, am I?"

He had zero self-pity about the things he'd been through, but still, my heart ached to hear the horrible things that happened to him.

"I understand," I snuggled in close and kissed him, then changed the subject. "Do you really feel like you had no choice in this?"

"You're my mate and nothing can change that, but I had enough free will to mess this up spectacularly the first time, didn't I?" His eyes twinkled cheekily. "And I could've let it stay messed up, if I didn't want the mate the fates dealt me. But once I had some time to think about it, I knew I was lucky to get you as my mate, even with the whole vampire situation. So I'm here because I want to be... but loving you isn't a choice; when the fates make a person who's perfect for you, you can't help but love them."

I thought about it for a few moments and realized he was right. "I can't help loving you, either," I gave him a big grin. "I couldn't stop loving you, even when I really wanted to." I felt guilty for a second, realizing that I hadn't stopped loving Eric yet, either, but then realized that was just the blood bond at work; nothing more.

"Imprinting makes being so in-love permanent," he smiled back. "When things are new, people are on their best behavior and have no problem figuring out how to treat their mate like they're important and special, and show how much they love them. Imprinting rewires your brain to keep you doing that permanently. That's what it's for, to make sure shifters treat their mate well and appreciate them, so we don't mess up our relationships the way humans do, by taking the person they love for granted and hurting them."

"So shifters stay together and have more 'cubs', right?" I teased, reminding him that he was trying to disagree with me about that.

"Yeah, that is how it usually turns out." He was thinking how happy he'd be if we turned out that way.

"Me too," I agreed. "I've always wanted kids, and wanted my kids to have a father as well as a mother, and hoped they'd see their parents really happy together. That's why I want this. When we both belong to each other, and we've imprinted strongly... we'll do everything we can to stay together, keep each other happy, make love all the time, and have lots of babies."

"You make it sound so perfect," he sighed, "but there's a price for all that. Being that devoted to your mate takes a lot out of a person; putting them ahead of yourself all the time. It was too much for my Mom. That's the main reason she went mad, she didn't get to be her own person and have the things she needed, because she'd been programmed to do what my Dad wanted. I won't do that to you."

"Your parents did it the traditional way," I reminded him again, "with all the pack rituals, and only her being marked. And I think... if I had to carry all the burden of making our relationship work like that, it would drive me nuts, too. So I don't want that for me, and I don't want it for you either. If we both change a little to make this work, we'll be OK. It'll be worth it for both of us. But you're going from one extreme to the other. Your Mom carried all that burden herself, and it was too much, so it drove her mad... and you're trying to save me from that by carrying the whole burden yourself. And that's not gonna work any better than what was done to your Mom."

"No," he shook his head, "the way we've imprinted... you do a lot to make this work already. I didn't realize this would happen to you like it does for shifters. You've already gotten more... accommodating, I guess the word is."

I snorted again. "Right, we're having a big argument about whether you should mark me because I've got so _accommodating _lately. If I'm not fighting you, it's not because I can't, it's because what we're doing is right for me. Sheesh."

He broke into a big grin then, loving that I still had the spark of defiance he'd always admired in me.

"I'm still fierce enough to keep you in line, tiger," I flirted, scraping my fingernails along his arm.

"Good," he chuckled, and I could 'hear' that he was suddenly horny again. To a tiger, fighting a little was standard foreplay.

"Oh, no you don't," I pressed my hand to his chest to keep him from kissing me. "You're not getting laid again until you promise to sink your teeth in, right here," I bared my neck to him, "when we're fucking and I'm just about to come. No biting, no sex," I mock-threatened.

It was supposed to be a sexy suggestion - biting during sex being a favorite tiger activity - but instead, it left him cold.

"I can't do that," he refused. "It's not physically possible."

"Why not?" I couldn't hide my disappointment; every time we had sex for the last few days, I'd wanted him to bite me.

"Sookie, to mark you I have to have fangs, so I'll have to be in my true form."

"I know," I snapped. "I do know how this works."

"No, you really don't. If you did, you wouldn't ask me to do that to you." He was too upset to shield his thoughts, and even though he didn't mean to share, I caught some truly awful images in his mind. Women literally running screaming from his bed. From him.

"What was that?" I demanded. "Those memories... what did you do?"

"I never meant to hurt anyone," he apologized. "It wasn't deliberate, it just happened. But I have better control now, I won't do that to you."

"What happened?"

"Sookie..." he pleaded, looking trapped. He could hear in my tone of voice that I wasn't going to back down, but still, he didn't want to tell me.

"What. Happened?" I repeated, furious that he was trying to keep something so big from me.

"When I was younger," he confessed, "I didn't have as much control as I do now, so if I ever fully relaxed, I shifted into my true form."

"So, what, you suddenly had fangs and a tail in the middle of sex?" I could see on his face that was true, and I couldn't help laughing. "Man, you've been with some easily frightened women." I was so used to men with fangs now, it just felt normal to me.

He was shocked by my response. "I was dating humans then. They didn't know what I am."

"Oh," I stopped laughing abruptly. "So that's how they found out? Surprise! Fangs and a tail."

"It's not just that," he made a pained expression. "In my true form, no part of me is fully human."

"Claws?" I asked, suddenly feeling as uncomfortable as he did. "That's why some of those women were bleeding?"

He nodded, looking mortified. "I didn't mean to," he repeated. "It only happened a few times..."

"When you were able to relax fully," it started to add up. "So only with people you trusted and cared about."

He looked at me in surprise, then nodded contritely. "I messed up really good things a couple of times, that way."

I thought about it for a long moment. "So you think you can't mark me during sex, because in your true form, you have claws as well as fangs, and you're worried about hurting me. But you can keep your claws retracted, right?"

"I can, but I'd still hurt you."

"Hurt me how?"

"Well... all of me's not-quite-human, then." He was hoping I'd guess what he meant by that.

"All of you?" I wondered aloud, then remembered what he'd told me about 'anatomical differences'. "Oh! You suddenly have those barbs you told me about, too!" My hand flew to my mouth in shock. "Oh, no wonder they were scream-"

"No!" he exploded. "I'm not a total hick." He stuck his right hand in front of my face as though it would explain everything.

I took his hand and studied it, trying to work out what he wanted me to see. I hadn't noticed it before, but the palm was paler and smoother than the skin around it... scar tissue. It was soft and supple, with indistinct edges, which told me it'd been there a long time: the more recent scars, like the one where he took an arrow to save me in Rhodes, felt harder than the skin around them. I studied the scar for a while, but couldn't work it out. It was like the area had been entirely flayed, more than once, many years ago.

"I don't get it," I admitted, looking up at him. "What happened to your hand?"

He was surprised I didn't know, when my brother was a panther. "Oh, it's a feline thing, learning to keep the barbs in... even other cats don't like them when they're in human form, and if we ever want to fuck any other species... well, we have to have good self-control. We're not allowed to come of age 'til we've proven we're not gonna harm anyone."

It took a few seconds to click: that he'd scraped all the skin off the palm of his hand _himself_; that his first experiences of sexual pleasure had been so laced with pain; that he'd had to do it to make sure he didn't hurt his future partners...

"Oh, how awful!" My hand flew over my mouth in shock. Then I looked at his hand again. "How long did it take?"

"A few hundred times. So about a week, for a teenage shifter." His eyes twinkled, telling me he was joking.

"You poor thing." I started planting little kisses all over the palm of his hand, as though I could still kiss it better, twenty years later.

He just chuckled. "It wasn't that bad. High pain threshold, remember? And being turned on makes it even higher, so really, not so bad. Plus it healed in under a day each time."

I nodded blankly, still upset that he'd had to do that. "OK, but if you didn't scratch anyone's insides, how would you hurt me?"

"When I change forms, I get bigger."

"How much bigger?" In tiger form, he was about 450 pounds, and I was suddenly worried about him crushing me to death... although he hadn't seemed any bigger than usual when I saw him in his true form before...

"Uh, three inches longer, half an inch wider... enough to really hurt when it happens at the wrong moment."

"Oh! You mean... _bigger_." I was one-part apprehensive, nine-parts enthralled.

He nodded sheepishly.

"Tiger-sized."

"No, the size humans would be if their bodies were as big as tigers'. Full-time tigers aren't exactly impressively equipped. Weretigers' bodies are different though, the same way that in human form we have a few tell-tale signs of what we turn into, if you know what to look for."

"Like the shape of the bones in your shoulders," I filled in. He'd shown me a while ago that because tigers' shoulders were so different to humans', in both forms his skeleton was a little different to 'normal'. He'd taught me the tell-tale signs many species had so that when I met a were, I'd be able to figure out what they were going to turn into, so I'd know how to fight them.

"Exactly," he smiled, glad I remembered. "And in either form, I've got the wrong number of vertebrae, different musculature, and organ systems that don't look quite right... we're hybrid in either form, so we only pass as long as we're not examined too closely."

"So you avoid hospitals, where you'd have x-rays and ultrasounds and whatever else."

He nodded. "And we make sure humans never examine our reproductive systems, because that's where things get really different. It's set up so we can have sex in any of our forms and produce cubs who stay human until their teens, then start to shift. So we pass on a full extra set of animal chromosomes, have more-or-less human eggs or sperm in all three forms, and a whole lot of other weird stuff. Cosmetic things like the size and shape change when we shift but the internal workings stay the same; human with some extras."

A sly, lusty smile formed on my lips, as I wondered what it would be like to feel him expanding inside me; if it would be as amazing as feeling his tongue suddenly filling me had been.

"There is such a thing as too big," he discouraged me, somehow knowing what was on my mind. "I have to be so careful not to hurt you, even at the size I usually am, so when I've suddenly been that much bigger inside someone... I've hurt women really badly before... torn stuff, made them bleed..."

I wasn't easily dissuaded, though. "I can see how it'd be a problem if it happened suddenly, but why not shift slowly?"

He looked at me like I was crazy. "It doesn't matter how slowly I shift, I still end up not-quite-human. Do you really want to fuck a part-tiger freak?"

"Yes," I told him cheekily. "I love going to bed with you and you're always part tiger, even when you look human. Your mind isn't full of words like a human's, it's all feelings, images and instincts. I love that, I can drop all my shields around you and not get overwhelmed. And I don't know how anyone can watch you walk across the room and still mistake you for a regular human; the way you move... it's so feline. No human is that graceful. Plus your tongue's prickly like a cat's, not smooth like a human's. I really like that."

"If I concentrate hard enough I should be able to make my tongue smoother," he offered.

I shook my head. "I love that your tongue's prickly. I love all the tiger stuff. I love that little ridge at the base of your spine that the bones from your tail shrink into, when you're in human form. I love that horny tiger expression you do, with your top lip curled up so you can suck air into that organ in the roof of your mouth and smell my pheromones. I love hearing you purr, and the way you growl and snarl while we're making love is really hot. I love you and the tiger stuff is part of you, so I love that, too."

He stared at me in disbelief, wondering if the woman who once wouldn't even sleep in the same bed as him when he had a tail could accept the tiger stuff enough to want to be mated by a 'part-tiger freak.' Then he went right back to the reflexive guilt he felt about all this, disgusted with himself for even hoping I'd, quote, _be into bestiality enough for that_.

"John, we're not talking about anything sick here," I interrupted his thoughts. "We're two people who love each other. If you have fur sometimes, so what? Plenty of men have body hair. I've caught some really disturbing things in people's thoughts over the years, and this isn't like doing things to a cow who's locked in a milking stall. Even in your true form, you're what, ninety-percent human?"

"At least ninety," he agreed. "I look fairly feline, but underneath all that I'm as human as I ever am."

"Then I'm sure we can find a way that you can mark me in that form. It worked fine when I marked you, and we just got each other off by rubbing against each other then, so at the very least we can do that again."

He was staring at me, starting to let himself hope that I might accept all of him; _love_ all of him, even.

"I do love all of you," I murmured, "and I want to try this. Kissing you in your true form was great - like you were more you, somehow - so I want to try it again and see what happens. I love you no matter what you look like, so I'm pretty sure I can handle a few tiger features. Show me your true form?"

He shook his head. "Take the day to think about everything I just told you, and see if you still want this then."

"I'm not talking about marking me right away," I corrected. "Tonight works for me. My stupid fairy instincts say there's something we need to do first but they won't tell me what, so we'll just have to wait. Right now, I just want to see what you look like and kiss and cuddle a bit to see how it feels... work out how much I'm OK with, you know?"

He didn't answer me, just lay there worrying I was about to be the next woman to run screaming from his bed... but underneath all that fear, I could feel his growing excitement that perhaps I really, truly could love all of him.


	42. True

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours?" I purred seductively.

For the first time ever, I'd discovered something that made Quinn uncomfortable, sexually. He had never made love in his true form before, although he had lost control and accidentally shifted midway through the act a few times when he was younger; hurting and terrifying the women he'd been with at the time. He was scared of hurting me, too, so he told himself he had no interest in even trying that... but I could feel that deep down, he craved it; that he longed to feel accepted and loved for all that he was, tiger and man.

"I know you want to make love to me while I'm in fairy form..." I'd caught him daydreaming about that a few times in the two days since he first saw my true form, and thought it might be enough to tempt him to shift.

"Sookie," he pleaded, "being in your true form... it's not just a physical change. All the masks come off. Hiding your feelings, even lying to yourself about them... none of that's possible, in your true form. Even controlling your actions is harder. It's really not something to do for fun."

The way he said it - the note of abject misery in his voice - reminded me of something that happened weeks ago, and it all suddenly made sense. "That's what you did at the picnic."

He literally flinched. "I thought we agreed that never happened," he rumbled, upset that I'd broken our pact.

"It didn't," I agreed, but there was something else I needed to say. "It did change things, though. Feeling you hurt yourself so much, just to make me feel better... Nobody else has ever loved me like that," I whispered, looking down at my pillow so I wouldn't have to meet his eyes.

He just grunted, not willing to discuss it. As far as he was concerned, 'never happened' meant 'never happened'.

I looked at him again, pretending our brief conversation never happened, too. "What happened to being all mine?" I teased, stroking the scar on his neck to remind him.

"I don't want to hurt you." His voice was all raspy, strained by the stress of imagining what would happen if he ever completely let go.

"I'm strong enough to stop you," I offered, and when he arched an eyebrow at me in disbelief, I snapped my fingers to proved it. He quickly rolled from his side onto his back, his hands coming together just above his head and his legs moving as far apart as I wanted them... far enough for me to do all manner of bad things to him. Then he was completely immobile, glued to the bed by fairy magic.

He tested the invisible bonds, his arm muscles flexing deliciously as he used all his strength to push against them, failing to move even a fraction of an inch. "Oh," he excitedly realized what I'd done. "Oh." He turned his head to stare at me hungrily - one of the few parts I'd decided to let him move.

I grinned and slid across the bed towards him, tracing the shape of his upper arm with my fingertips. It wasn't accidental that I'd positioned him that way: when he folded his arms behind his head, it highlighted every bulge of sculpted muscle. Boy, did he look tasty. I meant to kiss him, but my mouth found its way to his arm instead, nipping possessively at his bicep while he growled beside me.

"Please, use your fairy teeth?" he begged, his thoughts buzzing with arousal at the idea of seeing me in my true form again.

"I'll show you mine," I whispered, reminding him what I'd offered before, then traced his ear with my tongue before nibbling on the lobe a little.

When I glanced down his body, the bed sheet was already tented just below his waist; evidently, being restrained and bitten really turned him on. Sure, it'd been under an hour since our last few shared screaming orgasms, but for a tiger, that was ample recovery time. Fifty times a day, tigers wanted. He was struggling mentally though, wondering if he could actually do this, even with me. I 'heard' that to shifters, it was a big deal to show anyone your true form - even clothed, it somehow revealed a huge amount about a person - and making love that way was considered the most intimate act possible. Some mated pairs never once did it, in a whole lifetime together. Most packs literally _banned_ imprinting couples from being intimate in their true form (insisting they mate in animal form instead), because they didn't want people bonding that tightly to each other.

Me, I wanted to bond as tightly as possible to him.

As I kept on tormenting his ear, I wove the transformational magic I needed all around myself, then shifted into my own true form. He gasped as he felt my teeth sharpen against his ear lobe, gasping again when I bit down just hard enough to draw a single bead of blood, then licked it up greedily. The fairy in me loved the way he tasted; so hot and gamey and wild. One drop was really not enough. A few moments later, my teeth had found their way to his beautifully bulging bicep, and it took all my human willpower not to sink them into it.

He turned his head to look at me, somehow saw the battle going on inside my mind, and knew exactly what I wanted to do. "Oh god, yes. Please, yes," he murmured right in my ear, and I could see the sheet twitching in the corner of my eye. Tigers liked being bitten.

I slid my sharp teeth into his flesh, my fairy instincts telling me how to leave a lovely scar (while the human part of me still wondered if there was any such thing). His whimpers were one part pain, five parts delight, and his eyes were glue to the spot where my teeth penetrated his skin, panting in arousal at being claimed again. I slid my teeth out slowly, then cleaned the wound thoroughly with my tongue like an animal would, lapping up every drop of blood he shed for me. To the fairy part of me, his blood felt like a tribute; a gift he gave to thank me for taking him as my mate. To the human part of me... well, blood wasn't gross any more, at least.

I needed him to see how much I liked his 'gift', and I was straddling his waist a moment later. I leaned over him, twining my fingers in his to support my weight, then slowly licked his blood from my lips, my face mere inches from his. He watched me with a big grin, the weird fairy thank you gesture somehow making perfect sense to him.

When I was done, I leaned down the last couple of inches to kiss him, scraping his lips with my sharp teeth to make him bleed a little more for me, then biting my own lips as well. The feeling as I mixed our blood together was electric, the gentle rubbing of lips becoming something altogether more intense. His whole body shuddered beneath me as the fairy magic in my blood worked all the way through him, giving him some spark he needed so I could be his, just as he was mine. This was the thing my fairy instincts said I had to do, for him to be able to claim me tonight. I could 'hear' him think that taking the blood of a fairy in their true form had enormous magical significance, and a blood exchange in this state was an even bigger deal, but neither of us cared; it felt like we were each filling the other, and the pleasure of bonding each other so was exquisite beyond words. I was all through him, and he was all through me, and it was simply divine.

When I could feel that he'd had about as much fairy blood as any 'lower' (i.e. earthly) being could take at a time without going mad, I silently told him to heal our wounds. It wasn't yet enough to bond myself to him in the way that fairies did with their mates, but we were so close that only a few drops would be needed next time to make me officially, permanently, completely his. Just thinking about what would happen that night had me flooding my panties and burning with lust. He ran his tongue between our lips as I kissed him furiously, until finally his shifter saliva had stopped us both bleeding. Tasting my fairy magic had made him stronger somehow, and it didn't take nearly as long as I'd hoped to heal, so I kept on kissing him a while longer, just because. He was purring loudly beneath me, loving every second of it.

Then I sat up, to make his new favorite fantasy come true and show him exactly how I looked naked in this form.

He stared up at me in awe, repeating the words, "So beautiful" over and over, like it was his new mantra.

In human form, his adoration sat uncomfortably; I never felt as beautiful as he thought I was. But in fairy form, it felt normal, natural and right for him to worship me like this - I basked in his adoration like a cat warming itself in a sunbeam, arranging myself to soak up all I could. With all the 'masks off', I had no problem with bending right over so he could see how my nipples glowed pale pink, where the rest of my skin emitted pure white light, with just the slightest golden cast where I was most tanned. Or lifting myself up off him, so he could see that what little body hair I had was paler now and sparkled slightly, just like the hair on my head did. Or deliberately wiggling and jiggling, so he could see that with the thin, hard skin of a fairy over them, my breasts moved just a little differently.

Then I decided to start really teasing him.

"Don't you wish you could touch me?" I started running my fingers all over my chest as he stared at me, utterly transfixed. "My skin feels so different... it's as smooth as glass, and harder, too... but so thin, you can feel most of what's underneath it. Mmmm, don't you wish it was your hands, doing this to me?" I cupped my breasts, then started playing with them happily.

Expressing myself so brazenly felt natural now - and it wasn't just the after-effects of him nipping my neck and commanding me not to be ashamed of the things I wanted. I was fast realizing that modesty was one of my 'masks': something I'd been told I ought to feel all my life, and now hid behind. I knew I was supposed to be embarrassed to do things like this, so in my human form, I was... but in my true form, I couldn't help but reveal the truth about me, and the truth was, I loved making love to him, and loved making him beg me for it even more. I had craved frequent, intense sexual stimulation for most of my life (even more so since I'd had vampire blood, which seemed to have awakened something in me permanently) and now I had someone who would gladly provide it, I was happier than I'd ever been.

I moved my fingers to my nipples, pinching and pulling at them as I watched him watching me. He was breathing hard, wanting desperately to touch me, but thrilled I had stuck him to the bed so he couldn't. He was thinking of the deal we'd made, knowing he couldn't hurt me while I had him restrained, but still frightened by how I would react to his true form. The reactions of the few other women who'd seen it had shaped his own self-image, and he believed he was hideous, monstrous, terrifying...

"You're not," I disagreed, "you're beautiful. Whether you're a man, or a tiger, or a bit of both, I just see the person I love. I didn't run screaming last time I saw your true form, did I?"

He shook his head, but he still wasn't convinced this was a good idea, so I decided to try a different tack.

I pulled the sheet up higher so he wouldn't get to feel my fairy skin yet, then lay down on his chest so I could whisper right in his ear. "You know I have a thing for men with fangs," I joked. "Don't you wanna prove that yours are biggest?"

He wasn't sure how to react to that at first, but when I lifted my head up and looked him in the eye, he saw that I was teasing him and started laughing. I kissed him between chuckles, and it was just the right mix of humor and affection to make him finally fully relax around me.

"God, I love you," he murmured, and just like that, he started shifting. When he realized what was happening, he couldn't help fighting it.

"Sssh, let it happen," I soothed, leaning down to kiss him again as my hands slid into his and our fingers twined again. "I love you, too."

As I sweetly, tenderly locked lips with him, I could feel his jaw distorting. I opened my eyes to see his turn from purple to amber, but I didn't stop for a second. Kissing like this relaxed him, making him feel like maybe he could be his full self around me. He wriggled beneath me, letting his tail slide out from under him, and I could feel fur sprouting against my skin, even through the sheet.

"Mmmm, my tiger," I purred, as he slowly finished changing. "What big, sexy fangs you have."

I ran my tongue all along his fangs as they descended, grinding my crotch against his as I did, to make it clear that to me, fangs equal fun. Then I kissed him again, pressing my jaw against them so they wouldn't scratch me. His hands were still changing, pushing my fingers further apart as his broadened and shortened to be more like a tiger's toes, fur growing all over them as they did. He'd hidden his paws from me when I'd last seen him in his true form, quietly shifting them back as he carried me into my bedroom, when he thought I wouldn't notice what he was doing. I was fascinated to finally see what he thought he had to hide from me. Then I felt movement where I was rubbing my groin against his, as the final part of his body took on its part-tiger form.

When I pulled away from his lips to look at him, he literally winced, sure I was about to react with disgust. But to me, there was nothing ugly about him; if anything, he was even more beautiful like this; more himself. With the sheet still covering most of his body, I could see only his face, neck and arms, but I liked what I saw. His shining golden eyes reminded me of the sun (and the engagement ring he bought me); his fangs made my neck ache to be bitten; and the faint tiger markings all over his skin looked lovely to me.

"Oh, your skin's striped too!" I exclaimed, letting go of one of his hands so I could trace the markings on his arm, which were exactly the same pattern as his front legs had in his tiger form.

"Yeah, under the fur, there's more stripes." He stared at me nervously, still wondering how I was going to react.

"So pretty," I smiled, my fingertips following the patterns some more.

Those few tiger features made him look exotically gorgeous, but not inhuman because they were only skin deep; underneath the stripes and fur and glowing eyes, he was still the man I loved. The only thing that disappointed me was that he didn't have his ruff of longer fur around his neck, because I loved tangling my fingers in it and tickling him under the chin... but it would've been one tiger feature too many, I realized.

He was looking at me like I'd lost my mind, but I could 'hear' he was starting to hope I might one day love all of him; man and tiger.

"I do love all of you," I confirmed. "I'm so lucky, to have this strong, sexy, smart man who's all mine, and just happens to turn into a gorgeous tiger, too... I get a boyfriend and an exotic pet kitty, all in one."

He laughed at my joke. "Tigers don't make great pets, babe." His voice was slightly distorted by the huge fangs in his mouth, but I only noticed because I was so carefully observing what was different about his body. Even now, he just sounded like him to me.

"'Cause you're so wild," I teased, sitting up to let him look at me, "you think even a fairy couldn't tame you."

His eyes swept all over my body, drinking in every detail. "No, this fairy could tame me," he confessed, suddenly feeling very naked for admitting that; when he was in human form, he preferred to believe that he would always be a little bit wild.

I shook my head. "I like you wild, my tiger." I felt equally naked, because I wasn't ready to admit how much of his 'wildness' I liked.

I reached out my hand and snapped my fingers, bringing one of his hand/paws to mine. He kept his claws carefully sheathed, letting me examine the way his hands had changed. Apart from the wider, shorter digits and the tiger fur on them, his fingernails were gone (they were now the claws he kept retracted) and he had thicker, tougher skin on the spots where his paw pads would be when he was in tiger form. His hands looked quite like his tiger paws, but they were smaller; still in proportion with his human body, rather than his tiger one. I brought his hand to my face and rubbed it to my cheek, savoring the feel of skin and fur.

Then I examined his hand/paw again, pressing on a knuckle to make a claw slide out. Thankfully, it wasn't nearly as big as I feared it might be. He could slide full-size tiger claws from his fingers at will - one of the many odd talents he'd had to develop, to survive the life he'd had - but this wasn't one of them. It wasn't that much bigger than his human fingernail, re-shaped into a sharp little hook about twice the size of a house cat's. I ran a finger along the back of it, then touched the needle-sharp point to my fingertip.

When I looked into his eyes again, he was staring at me in awe, amazed that I could calmly, almost reverently handle something as monstrous as his hideous hand/paws. I just rolled my eyes and shook my head at him, making it clear that to me, he wasn't hideous at all. I guided his hand to my breast, rubbing the soft fur on the back of it against my nipple, groaning at how wonderful it felt.

"Be careful," he gasped, worried he might lose control and harm me.

"You won't hurt me," I insisted, letting a little fairy magic shimmer around me as I did.

There was no need to magic him into not hurting me - he wasn't the raging, out-of-control monster he'd seen reflected in other women's fearful responses - but he was more comfortable doing this when I reminded him I had the power to stop him if anything went wrong. He relaxed and used the back of his hand to stroke me, smiling as he watched me enjoy the feel of soft tiger fur against tender nipple. I moaned loudly, telling him he was turning me on all over again.

I wondered whether liking the feel of fur against my skin made me horribly perverted... but then, I figured that if regular humans liked bringing the feathers of deceased birds into their bed to tease their lover's skin, this couldn't be so wrong, could it? The animal part I liked might still be attached to the 'animal', but at least he was alive - I wasn't bringing part of a corpse into our bed, thankfully.

The more I thought about the animal question, the more I knew the humans who would call this bestiality were wrong (not surprising, when they made up their minds without even trying to find out how human shape-shifters actually are). Staring into those beautiful, slanted amber eyes I saw only my boyfriend, and this didn't seem any different to all the other times we'd made love. Sure, he looked a little different, and some parts of his body felt different against mine, but he was still him. I sometimes 'heard' Fellowship people think about me fucking shifters, but this was nothing like their fantasies: of cartoonish violence culminating in rough animal-style rutting, with the shifter's anatomy distorted in uncomfortable ways (to punish me for my inhuman lusts, it often seemed). This was two people who loved each other, kissing, cuddling and touching to express that love, as naked emotionally as we were physically.

Before we started, I hadn't been sure how far I could go with this. I knew I liked kissing and cuddling him in his true form, and I'd thought about making love like this a few times, but that wasn't the same as being sure I could. I did know I was safe to experiment, though. I had a freedom with him that I hadn't had with either of my over-excitable vampire lovers: the freedom to start something I might not be able to finish; to ask him to do something, then ask him to stop a minute later if it didn't feel how I thought it would. It was like a free no-obligation trial offer, valid for any sexual act I wanted... and I was especially glad I'd been able to try this.

"You OK?" he asked, sensing my distraction.

"I'm good," I smiled. "You know, when people think of shape-shifters having sex, this really isn't what they imagine."

He nodded. "I guess they think about it the same way they think about animals having sex, all brutal and joyless?"

"Exactly. Nothing like this at all."

He gave me a tender smile, then moved his free hand from my breast to my face, so he could pull me down to him and kiss me some more. I willingly went to him, putting all my feelings into another long, tender smooch, barely noticing that I was kissing a man with big sharp tiger fangs. He was letting his feelings bubble up to the surface of his mind, so I'd know exactly how much he loved me. I pressed my hands to his face and sent my own emotions right back, so he knew I had come to accept the animal in him fully; that there was no part of him that scared me or put me off any more. Feeling that, he was finally ready to let me go further.

As I kept on kissing him, I lifted myself up off his chest for just long enough to drag the sheet down to his waist, then set myself back exactly where I'd been before. I couldn't help a wide-eyed gasp as I did, feeling all that wonderful soft tiger fur against my sensitive skin. In his human form, he had no chest hair at all, and as much as I liked the way his bare, sculpted torso looked, I had quite enjoyed rubbing myself against the hair previous lovers had there. But as good as coarse, curly hairs could feel, I was finding soft, straight, almost-silky tiger fur even more enjoyable - especially since the fur extended all the way down his belly. I rubbed my chest against his as we kept on kissing, and found myself making long lusty moans at the sensation. I could feel his amazement that I liked this, but me, I just felt turned on again.

When he started to relax and purr beneath me, I finally let my hands start exploring, feeling what his upper body was like in this form. His fur wasn't as thick here as it was on his hands, but I was expecting that: in tiger form, the fur on his paws was shorter and denser than his body, too. I was pleased to discover that it was only his front that was covered in fur; his sides and shoulders were bare, although I hoped the skin had faint tiger stripes like the skin on his arms did. The fur got thinner and shorter at the edges until it finally disappeared, just like it did above his wrists. When he felt my hands wandering, he arched his back off the bed as far as he could (I'd made sure he had some hip movement available, just in case) so I could slide my hand under.

"No fur," he murmured, "just stripes." He'd somehow sensed how pleased I was that he didn't have furry shoulders, and figured I'd be pleased about his back, too. He was right. "Well, except at the base of my tail..." he added hesitantly.

I took that as license for my hand to wander some more, sliding down to the small of his back, my fingertips finding the edge of a furry patch just below his waist when I got there.

"Sorry, not completely free of back fur," he joked.

I giggled as I slid off his chest so I could look at it. "I'm really glad you're relaxing," I grinned at him.

He just smiled back at me, not sure what to say about that. He still wasn't completely relaxed, but he was feeling better than he had before. He wrapped his free arm around me, holding me close to his side, and I was pleasantly surprised that his underarm hair felt more like tiger fur, too - softer, smoother - and his intoxicating man-scent had just a hint more earthy tiger goodness than usual. Yum.

My eyes wandered all over his upper body, tracing his belly-markings (which I knew well from training; when he taught me to fight shifters in animal form, I always spent part of the lesson tickling behind his ears, then under his chin, then his chest, before he'd roll on his back and let me scratch his belly - I found him so beautiful in tiger form, I just wanted to cuddle and tickle him all the time). His belly was white with black stripes, which met in a distinctive 'V' near the top of his chest. His nipples were almost hidden by his fur, but after a few moments exploring, I managed to find them. Suddenly, he seemed uneasy, and I 'heard' him worrying that I'd, quote, _find the other set and freak out_.

"You have another set of nipples?" I asked excitedly.

"Yeah, tigers have four," he confessed. "Tigresses often have litters of three or four cubs, so they need the extras." He thought I'd hate that.

I didn't. My fingers started searching, just below his human nipples. Then I remembered him telling me that the most painful part of shifting wasn't the breaking and healing of bones or ligaments or cartilage; it was his nipples moving from high on his chest in human form, to way down the belly where tigers had theirs. My hands worked lower down, and sure enough, found a second smaller set right down on his belly, where the lower of the two sets were in tiger form.

"You have freckles there, don't you?" I checked, sure I'd noticed what seemed like an oddly-matched pair before.

"I have marks there, but they're not really freckles... remember I told you, no tiger body part completely disappears when I shift?"

I nodded. He'd mentioned it yesterday, when Hunter asked why shifters avoided human hospitals. He explained that anyone who looked closely at an x-ray of a shifter's pelvis would see all the bones, muscles and ligaments of a tail, in perfectly-formed miniature, tucked inside the skin. Human doctors often surgically removed the 'weird stuff' to examine it, leaving the shifter permanently without their tail, which a lot of animals needed for balance when they ran. When they discovered that the inch-long miniature weighed as much as a full animal tail, that was rarely the end of their tests.

"I can't actually create or lose any body part, the tiger extras shrink down to be barely noticeable in human form, and vice versa... like that pair of freckles on my chest... if any doctor looks at it with their magnifying gear, it looks exactly like a miniature nipple, and they get curious."

"And your muscles attach to your bones differently to how they do in humans, too," I added.

"You noticed that?" He was amazed; even shifters often didn't notice that in each other, and identified their own kind by smell instead.

"No, Dr. Patel did, and I 'overheard'." I could see him getting alarmed. "Don't worry, he's no danger to shifters, he doesn't hate y'all like so many humans do. He's only interested in identifying shifters so he can give all his patients the best treatments for them."

He made a mental note to get Dr. Patel on the shifter payroll - they had people at every hospital who were sympathetic to their plight and helped injured shifters' medical records disappear before they ended up in a government lab being experimented upon, or conscripted into the secret shifter super-soldier program nobody was meant to know about - and then turned his attention back to what we were doing. My word that Dr. Patel was trustworthy was more than enough to convince him that he was.

We kissed for a while longer, and I quickly found that having an extra set of nipples wasn't as exciting as I thought: they weren't nearly as sensitive as the others, so after a couple minutes of playing with them, I gave up. His human ones, though... they were as sensitive as ever. I moved down to lick and bite them, rubbing my face against his furry chest as I did. He started growling softly, making that 'happy turned-on tiger' sound I loved so much. I bit down harder and his growls got louder, so I started pinching the other nipple as well. He got so distracted that his claws slipped out a little, on the hand he was using to hold me to his side. I felt them press against my backside, and to my surprise, they actually felt good, making me moan some more.

While he was distracted by my happy moans around his freshly-bitten nipple, I casually used my feet to pull the sheet off him, leaving him completely naked against me. When he realized what I'd just done, he gasped loudly and got nervous again.

"Babe, you don't have to... not like this... if it's too much -"

"Just looking," I interrupted. "I want to see you, OK?"

He still looked nervous, so I slid back up his body to kiss him a while longer, rolling back on top of him as I did. Even that was enough to get a long, loud, horny growl out of him: in this form, he wasn't used to anyone touching his cock, so even feeling the soft flesh of my thighs against him was new and thrilling. I kissed him enthusiastically, knowing that if I distracted him enough, I could get in a grope or two, without making him nervous. (And truth be told, I was more than a little curious about the changes there.)

I kissed him for as long as I could manage - perhaps two whole minutes - but then, with all the masks off, I had to admit that, "The curiosity is killing me."

He looked at me in surprise as I slid my hips off his, to make room for my hands to wander. I slid my fingers through the fur on his chest, down lower and lower, feeling it thin almost to disappearing, then suddenly re-appear even thicker than before, at the base of -

"Oh," I gasped, as my hand wrapped around the extra-wide base of him, so big my fingers formed more of a 'C' than an 'O'.

He thought I was about to react negatively, so when I broke into a big, lusty smile instead, he was literally stunned into silence.

I kissed him briefly, then looked right into his eyes as my hand worked its way up his length. Apart from the increased width, I was also fascinated to find that he'd changed shape, narrowing to a point as I finally reached his tip. The tip was slightly bumpy - not silky smooth like it was in his human form - but as he'd promised, no barbs.

"What are you thinking?" he nervously asked, feeling like he was dying from an odd mixture of extreme pleasure and fear of rejection.

I leaned right in to whisper in his ear, "Naughty stuff about how narrow you are at the tip, and where else I might be able to fit you, like this."

He gave me a puzzled look, so I reached behind me, guiding his hand from where it was resting on my hip, down to my backside, then right into the cleft...

"Oh!" His eyebrows flew up as high as they'd go. "Have you ever done that before?" He previously thought I hadn't, given how tight I was, and that we wouldn't be trying for a long time (if ever) because he'd never managed to finger me open anywhere near enough for his size not to hurt me. He didn't mind if that wasn't on the menu, though; there was still a long list of fun things to do that wouldn't hurt me.

"Only once," I grinned, "but I really liked it."

He instantly knew who I'd done that with - my list of previous lovers wasn't exactly long, and saying I enjoyed it told him everything. I 'heard' that wasn't something a person enjoyed the first time unless they were well-prepared by someone who knew what they were doing. I'd only made a few passing references to Bill's style, but he knew that once my neighbor was sure he'd got me, he treated me as a chore to be dealt with as quickly as possible. I was glad I hadn't tried that with Bill; I was fast realizing that a rough, rushed attempt would probably have put me off for life, and I would've missed out on a whole lot of very fun things.

"I'd like to do that with you," I promised. "Not right now, but some time soon."

"Of course." He gave me a soft smile, remembering the things he'd 'heard' me think earlier, about offering him every part of me when we made love, and feeling like he loved everything I gave him. "Whenever you're ready."

I grinned and kissed him again, thinking how wonderful it felt to be slowly stretched open by a patient, attentive lover, and then finally feel them sliding inside the most private of all body parts, pleasuring me in a place I never expected to feel pleasure.

"Mmmm, I really want you to have all of me," I added, my voice husky again.

"Likewise," he answered, telling me that he was finally ready: ready to make love to me in a form that forced him to tell the truth in every way, from his words to his movements to the things he thought to himself as we coupled.

"Good." I was already on top of him again, kissing him fervently as I figured out exactly what I wanted to do.

I reached behind me to line us up, then started slowly sliding myself back onto him. Just as I expected, my body didn't have to stretch far at first, and that different sensation surprised me enormously. Usually, I had to be relaxed enough for my body to open almost as far as it could, before we could even start. But like this... his tip slid in so easily, it felt like he would fit inside me even without all the usual careful preparations. It was only as I took him deeper that he started stretching me open as well, his width forcing my lips apart in the most delicious way.

"Shift back, just for a second?" I suggested, as a really wicked idea crossed my mind.

He looked at me in surprise, but did as I asked. He was silently wondering if his true form was too much for me, but that wasn't it at all. I was disappointed to feel the fur on his chest slide back into his skin, but I knew it wouldn't be for long.

I sat up and rode him, letting him watch me move as I took pleasure in the now-familiar form inside me. The familiarity was a blessing: I knew my way around his body so well that when I was on top like this, I could bring myself to the brink in only a few minutes. I did exactly that, with him deep inside me so I could grind my clit against him, feeling so full I could almost burst... almost.

"Now shift back," I demanded, right on edge and needing just that little bit extra to get me there.

He meant to ask me if I was sure, and advise me not to sit right down on him like this when he was about to suddenly be bigger, but he wanted this so much it happened before he could pretend otherwise. The sudden change in size and shape was exquisite, creating that delicious stretching feeling I usually only got at the very start all over again, as my body tensed in impending orgasm.

I could hear my screams as his shifting body forced me open, the slight pain of it clearly discernible, and he was almost concerned enough to stop... but there was no mistaking the spasms starting inside me. My body was fighting to milk him, trying to pulse the way it usually did at that crucial moment, but stretched as far as I was, that just wasn't going to happen. Nothing this big had ever been inside me, and it happened so quickly, and for a long moment, my body couldn't work out what to do with the unfamiliar sensation... until at last, the deepest of my muscles made their decision, and suddenly it was all pleasure. Intense pleasure. Screamingly, convulsively intense pleasure.

"Oh, John," I managed to gasp, my eyes meeting his for just a moment.

Then I was lying on his chest, twitching and sobbing, as my whole body shook with the ecstasy of being opened so far. All my limbs felt loosened somehow, and as much as his size demanded careful preparation, in that instant it seemed eternally worth it.

Before I could even finish coming - let alone thank him as profusely as I felt I ought - his hand/paw was tangled in my hair, and he literally dragged me to his lips, kissing me for barely a moment before his tongue was deep inside me as well.

"Oh, yes," I praised him, when he gave me a bare second's reprieve. "Like that. Just like that." I clicked my fingers to let him go.

The second he could move, he did exactly what I wanted, as though he'd just managed to read my mind. He had me on my back a moment later, splayed out before him, sated and hungry all at once. His hands held my hips off the bed, but my back rested on his knees, and he stared at the spot where we joined as he slowly started moving his hips, amazed that we were really doing this. His eyes leapt to mine, studying my face to make sure this was OK.

"Just OK?" I shook my head. "Fan-frickin'-tastic," I giggled loudly.

"Good," he growled, staring at my over-stretched lips some more.

Then he was moving more vigorously, staring into my eyes to be certain I liked it; that my mewls were mewls of delight and joy, not pain or anguish. Once he got that confirmation, he arranged his hands so just one was holding me up, and the other was on my mound, then playing with my lips, then -

I felt the very best sensation I had ever felt in my life, and every conscious thought was gone. I was pure pleasure, my whole being on fire with it, too overwhelmed to even call it coming. Every stroke fed pleasure from my toes to my nose; every one enough to fuel a full minute-long orgasm, but they were all overlapping, building pleasure on pleasure on pleasure 'til I literally felt like I would die of it... and if anyone was going to kill me, this was exactly how I wanted to go.

I could feel my back arching and my limbs thrashing, my mouth babbling and my eyes rolling all the way back into my head... but only when he finally stopped, and the pleasure subsided just enough to float back down from heaven, into my orgasm-wracked body.

How long had it been? It felt never-ending, hours and hours of soul-searing ecstasy, but something told me it had only been a few minutes.

"What did you do?" I demanded, having to know what could do that to me.

"Watch." He lifted me up to sit in his lap, with just one hand under my back. He looked down at my sex and I did too, just in time to see the fingers of his other hand start wandering around. "You're stretched so far," he whispered, "that your clit is almost..." He used a finger to demonstrate that he could press one side against his cock, and have the other touch the edge of my magic button (which I finally noticed, was just a bit bigger in this form; more protruding). "So all I do is press everything in that direction," he used thumb and finger to stretch the whole area just a little closer to him, "and..." He used his other arm around my waist to slide me up and down his cock, just once, and I came so hard it took me thirty seconds afterward to stop shaking.

"Wow," I marveled. "OK, I have to learn how to do that, or I am never letting you out of this bedroom again."

"Promises, promises," he grinned, and I could 'hear' how pleased with himself he was. He took it as a major compliment that he'd shown me something I wanted to know how to do for myself, since I'd had more than enough practice to know my own body (and what produced the fastest and/or most intense orgasms) really well.

I slid my hand down into my lap and he guided it, showing me exactly where to press to push my clit up against him. Once I'd figured it out, he slid me up and down again... but the second that overpowering pleasure started, my hand stopped cooperating and the sensation stopped too. I pouted and tried a second time, with exactly the same result; then a third.

"Looks like you're gonna have to keep me around, babe," he chuckled happily.

I just nodded, shot him a completely feral look and demanded, "More."

This time, he kept me right where I was, so he could claim my mouth as he sent me all the way into orbit with my new favorite sex trick ever. Just like before, it was the very best thing I had ever felt; a maneuver that seemed to induce orgasm with every single movement, making my climaxes overlap so much I felt like I was having at least three at once, at any given moment. Did I make a lot of noise? Did my body shake and shudder? I was too overloaded by the pleasure to have any idea, and I didn't mind that one bit.

He just kept moving me and moving me, utterly relentless, fucking me as though his life depended on our continue coupling. He seemed determined to drive me mad with pleasure, blowing my mind so thoroughly I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to make it work again. I just leaned into him and kissed him back, with even more enthusiasm than he was kissing me.

And then, at the worst possible moment, there was a knock on the door: a tiny, frantic knock.

"I didn't see, I'm so sorry, I didn't see," Hunter's muffled, upset voice came through the door. "She's gonna get hurt, and I didn't see."

Quinn and I looked at each other for a second, saw the need in each other's eyes, and we were both completely gone. He was right on edge - had been for the last few minutes - and I just couldn't stop. We managed to stay silent, clinging to each other as he finally shared in my bliss, filling me with even more heat and wetness as my body went through one last exquisite set of internal convulsions.

There was literally no time to recover - Hunter was banging on the door harder now, sobbing against it as he kept on apologizing. I started to tune into his thoughts instead of my own, but I couldn't 'hear' what had upset him so.

"Welcome to parenting," Quinn whispered, giving me one last sweet kiss before he disentangled our bodies and helped me to my feet.

My legs were all shaky. I was in that blissful post-coital state where I needed my bare skin pressed against my boyfriend's, his fingers playing with my hair, his lips right beside mine so we could share sweet little smooches whenever either of us needed one... but duty called. I leaned in for a quick bare-skinned hug, knowing it was the only cuddle we would get, this time. He stroked my back and kissed my hair, opening his feelings right up to me so I could feel the closeness I needed now, just for a second.

I could 'hear' that this wasn't the first time sex had been interrupted by the child in his care... except Frannie was never one to knock; she would simply burst in to demand food or a toy she'd lost or to kick a soccer ball around the yard with him. I suddenly felt appreciation for Hunter, knowing in advance that he'd get yelled at if he did that, so he stayed outside and sobbed against the door until we were ready.

My boyfriend started shifting back to his regular human form, and his transformational magic pulled at me, so I let it pull me back to the human world, too. He handed me my robe, found himself some boxers, and then went to open the door, to find out what had Hunter so upset.


	43. Danger

As soon as Quinn opened the door, Hunter ran in and wrapped himself around my legs, sobbing as he clung to me.

"Hey, sweetie, what's wrong?" I ruffled his hair, trying to comfort him.

"I didn't watch enough. Today changed and I didn't see it," he wailed. "She'll get hurt."

I could feel that he'd seen something horrible. "Who's going to get hurt?"

"Frannie," Hunter cried. "I never even got to meet her."

Quinn had been standing by the doorway, but when he heard that Hunter saw his sister in trouble, he was crouched in front of my nephew in an instant.

"Please, tell us everything you saw," he begged. "We'll find a way to save her."

I was glad that he included me in his plan to help his sister instead of taking off alone this time, but had no time to dwell on that.

Hunter shook his head. "We don't have time. I'll show Aunt Sookie."

"OK sweetie, I'll be as gentle as I can," I promised as I put my hands on either side of his face.

_Only look at Frannie, and only today,_ he insisted. _Don't look at anything else, not even tonight. You can't know the other things yet._

I nodded and he showed me what was about to happen to Frannie. Tears ran down my face as I saw his vision. We couldn't let it happen. As soon as I thought that, another branch appeared in his mind reflecting my first plan, which I was just starting to think up. I saw that it would fail and as soon as I began formulating a better plan, it was there as another possible future. The outcome was better, but still not great. I started thinking up another plan and as the branch appeared in Hunter's mind, I saw that it would work.

I gave my nephew a hug to comfort him. "We'll make sure she's OK," I reassured him.

"I hope so," he agreed weakly. It was still far from guaranteed that we would succeed.

I turned to Quinn. "We have to go now," I told him. "We have to take Eric's car; it's the only one that's fast enough. It's out front, right?" James and Amelia had brought it back just before sunrise. "You need your phone. You'll probably need weapons and you might need an interrogation kit, too. Dress for a fight."

He nodded and left to get what he needed.

"I'll get Eric's car keys," Hunter offered, already heading to his room. "Close the shutters."

I went into the hallway to hit the switch that would close all the light-proof shutters James had installed around my house, flicking on light switches in the kitchen, hallway and bedrooms as I went. Hunter walked into his room to open the closet, waiting for me to open the trapdoor - with his broken arm, it was too heavy for him to manage himself. I expected to find James sleeping in there, but instead, Hunter climbed right in on top of a sleeping Eric. I was so stunned to see him there, looking just as he had when he stayed with me while he was cursed, that I didn't think to stop my nephew. Eric stirred, looked directly at Hunter for a moment, muttered a heavily-accented word that sounded like 'soon', then went right back to sleep. Hunter fished around in his jeans pocket, retrieved his car keys and threw them to me.

"Eric's here?" I asked, my brain still catching up. Boy, did I hope he slept through everything Quinn and I did that morning...

My boyfriend appeared a moment later, moving at Supe speed to get to me. "Sorry, my bad," he apologized. "He turned up just before sunrise to tell me something," _about the stuff in the security videos he and Pam watched last night_, he added silently, in case my neighbor had left another bug in my house since he last checked. "It was too late for him to get back to Shreveport and he didn't want to deal with Bill," _because he'd report Eric's visit to Felipe_, "so I said he could stay here. I hope you don't mind."

"If it's a choice between meeting the sun and sleeping here, he can stay." Then it occurred to me: Eric was watching security videos with Pam last night. Was she the woman I heard humph in the background, when I called after my nightmare to be sure he was OK?

"I meant to tell you sooner, but I got distracted," Quinn added. "Sorry."

Hunter slammed the trapdoor loudly. "Go help Frannie in New Orleans."

"We are," I promised.

Quinn was already gone, getting the last of the supplies we needed.

"Take the white stone," Hunter ordered, just as I went to leave too. "The invisible one."

It wasn't an accurate description - the stone itself wasn't invisible - but I knew exactly what he meant: the _nemaicside_ charm stone, a smooth milky white crystal that fit in my hand and allowed me to make myself invisible. It was one of the items in Niall's box of magical gifts, and Amelia had taught me to use it a couple of weeks ago. Then Quinn taught me to use invisibility to my advantage in a fight, which was especially useful when I was outnumbered... like I'd be today.

I went into my room, opened the box that housed Niall's gifts, picked out the stone and stashed it in my pocket, then started to head outside. At the last second, I realized I was about to leave Hunter home alone.

_No you're not_, he told me. _Amelia's here. I'll go right upstairs and wake her._

He was lying, I could feel that - he liked getting his own breakfast, 'like a big boy,' so he planned to fix his own cereal and milk, then play for a while before he roused her, so she'd be less cranky when he did.

_If you need anything at all, you wake her_, I silently insisted, _and tell her I said sorry for just leaving you with her._

_I will_, he confirmed, as I walked out the front door. _She'll understand._

Quinn was already waiting beside Eric's car when I got there. I threw him the keys and he slid into the driver's seat, adjusting everything to his height at Supe speed while I jumped in the other side. My door was still closing when he started up the driveway.

"Hunter said New Orleans?" he checked.

I nodded. We discussed driving directions for a few minutes, picking the roads that would get us there fastest. We were soon on the Interstate pushing 100 miles an hour, flying past the few other cars as though they were standing still. I tried not to look out the window or think about how fast we were going; I know weres have amazing reflexes but I still found driving at high speed terrifying.

"You have to call Frannie," I told Quinn. "Give me your phone and I'll dial it for you, just tell her to listen to me and do as I say."

"What's going on?" he asked tensely. "She's in trouble, right?"

"Not yet, but she will be real soon."

"What's she even doing in New Orleans? She's meant to be in school." He didn't sound at all happy about that.

"She's there to see your Mom, but I don't think your Mom's actually in New Orleans, she just told Frannie she is. Something really weird is going on. When Frannie goes to meet your Mom, she'll be kidnapped. They arranged to meet at 1pm."

"Crap!" Quinn exclaimed as he looked at the clock in the dash. "It's past midday already." We'd spent the whole morning in bed.

"That's why we have to call her right away. We have to get her to postpone their meeting for as long as possible. We're going fast already and it'll still take almost three hours to get there."

He pulled his phone from his pocket and handed it to me. I found Frannie's number and dialed it, then held the phone to his ear. After a few seconds, he spoke.

"Frannie, I can't talk because I'm driving kinda fast right now but Sookie's with me and she'll explain what's going on. Please listen to her and do exactly what she says."

He nodded at me and I took the phone.

"Hi Frannie," I greeted her.

"Sookie, hi, what's going on?" she sounded worried.

"You're in New Orleans to meet your Mom, right?" I asked.

"Yes," she confirmed. "John organized it for us to apologize for being such a jerk lately. What's wrong?"

"No, he didn't," I corrected. "He didn't know you were there until a seer we know had a vision of you getting hurt this afternoon and warned us. We're on our way there now. Your Mom's in trouble again and he needs to be there when you see her. He said you need to call her and postpone meeting her."

"What will I say?"

"I have no idea," I admitted. "We've gotta come up with something good though, something she can't argue with."

"Leave it to me, I've got an idea," Frannie told me. "How long do I need to delay her?"

"We'll try to be there by three, but maybe make it 3:30 to be safe. Four would be ideal."

"Four it is. See you soon, Sookie."

"Seeya Frannie, and if you need help earlier, call us."

Frannie hung up and I saw that Quinn looked worried; he heard the whole conversation and he didn't like it that his mother had told Frannie that he organized her trip to New Orleans. Whatever was going on, we had to get to her quickly.

"Can you go any faster?" I asked him. "I know the car can, and I can read the minds of people in front of us to look for cops and warn you of any obstacles in our way. Can you keep control of the car at a higher speed? Are your senses and reflexes up to it?"

At that, he grinned broadly. "Babe, cars don't go anywhere near fast enough to bother me. I like planes more, but even they're a bit slow. Aerobatic moves make it interesting, so long as the plane can keep up. So yes, I can go faster."

"Wait, you can fly planes?" I asked, surprised.

He'd never mentioned it before, and I 'heard' why: he didn't tell anyone he dated for as long as possible, since it gave away the fact that he has money. It was partly so women who were looking for a rich guy didn't realize he fit their main criterion and get interested in him, but even more so he didn't scare off the kind of woman he wanted - someone like me, who wasn't interested in money and just wanted a happy relationship. He realized then that he didn't have to hide things like this from me; that I loved him for him and the money stuff wasn't a factor in that. He was right.

"As a hobby," he explained. "I've only got private certification. I've been learning aerobatics the last few years, 'cause even landings were getting too easy. I can also fly business jets like Cessnas and the smaller Gulfstreams, plus rotorcraft."

"Rotorcraft?"

"Helicopters," he grinned. He looked excited and happy at the thought of flying. "Shifters have to do something to burn all the extra adrenaline in our systems or we end up gambling. Having a couple planes is cheaper, and far less likely to get me into trouble again."

"Wow. You'll have to tell me all about it."

"I will," he smiled.

"So are you going to speed up? We have to get to her quickly, the stuff Hunter saw is terrible. We can't let it happen."

"I will. I'm just worried that if someone else on the road does something stupid and causes a crash, you could get killed. So I'll speed up on one condition: if I tell you to get out, you teleport away that instant and let me deal with it, OK?"

"I guess so," I agreed hesitantly.

"I can survive a high speed crash. I've had worse injuries and I'm still here. It might take me a few weeks to recover, and you might have to call Dr. Ludwig, but I'd be fine. You wouldn't. If I say get out, just leave me. I'll live, I promise. Seriously, I won't be in any real danger 'til I take this car back to Eric smelling like tiger," he joked.

"And fairy," I smiled back, briefly shifting to my true form and rubbing my skin on the upholstery to scent-mark it.

"Then I might survive after all," he grinned, before getting serious again. "Promise me you'll get out if I tell you to?"

I nodded and said a silent prayer that we wouldn't crash, because leaving him to get hurt alone would probably break me.

As Quinn pushed the accelerator to the floor, I was careful not to look out the window. I found 100 mph terrifying enough; I didn't need to know how much 180 would scare me. We were on a clear, flat, almost straight highway; the weekday traffic wasn't heavy so we didn't have to weave around other cars much; Eric's Corvette was built for these speeds; and I knew that my boyfriend was faster and more accurate than any human, many times over... but still, driving this fast didn't sit well with me.

Thankfully I had something to occupy my mind other than worrying. The faster speed meant I had to scan people a long way in front to make sure there weren't any cops or obstacles ahead. I had to concentrate hard to read so many minds at such distance and find any useful information in time. We were incredibly lucky: we had to slow down once to get past a traffic snarl caused by a single slow driver, but otherwise we had a clear run on the Interstate.

We made the trip in silence. Quinn was concentrating on driving as quickly as the car could carry us, and I was concentrating on 'hearing' about any obstacles soon enough to warn him. As we entered the city limits and started slowing down, we each breathed a sigh of relief. We were still on the Interstate, but there was no way I could scan as many minds as I would need to in the city to be sure we wouldn't crash or get arrested. It was better that we obey the speed limit, and that meant I could finally relax a little.

I did a double-take when I saw the time. It was just past 2pm, so we had driven almost 300 miles in two hours. I suddenly saw the benefit of fast cars, especially when they were driven by Supes with extraordinary reflexes, sight and hearing.

_Aunt Sookie! Can you hear me?_ Hunter's voice was suddenly in my head.

_I can hear you Hunter, what's wrong? _I answered, projecting as far as I could.

My nephew and I had amazing range - we could easily 'hear' one another from Bon Temps to Red Ditch - but this was the furthest we had tried to communicate with each other telepathically, and his voice was faint in my mind.

_You have to get to Frannie now. The plan changed, they're coming to take her from her hotel. You have to teleport to her._

_OK Hunter, I'll do my best._ I had no idea how I would do that, since I didn't know where she was.

_Call her, she'll tell you where she is. But get there now, you've only got a few minutes._

I picked up Quinn's phone and dialed her number.

"Frannie, someone's coming for you," I told her as soon as she answered. "Our seer saw it. You have to go where there are lots of people around, right now. Then describe where you are so I can come get you."

"What do you mean, they're coming for me?"

"I don't have time to explain. Get to the closest place where there are lots of people, as fast as you can. Now."

I heard a door slam and her breath became fast, as though she was running. Then I heard her get into an elevator and the phone call cut out.

"Damn!" I cussed loudly. "I have no idea where she is."

"What's going on?" Quinn asked, worried. "That was Hunter before, right? The silent conversation?"

"Yes, I have to get to Frannie right now, I'll teleport there as soon as I know where-"

His phone started ringing and when I saw it was Frannie, I answered it. This time I remembered to ask where she was. She told me she was in the lobby of her hotel, just off Bourbon Street, near some places I knew. We agreed to meet in five minutes on the corner of Bourbon and Canal.

"I'm going to teleport there. See if you can track me," I told Quinn. "I'll call you once I'm there."

I didn't wait for him to agree; I was already mentally reaching out to an alley off Bourbon Street where I knew I could appear unseen. I concentrated hard and a moment later, I was there. I pulled out my phone to call Quinn.

"Hey," he answered on the first ring.

"I'm walking up to the corner of Bourbon and Canal," I told him, using all my fairy powers to draw him to me. "Can you feel where I am? The fairy bond that's starting to form between us should tell you how to get to me."

"I feel it," he replied.

"Good. I don't know what's happening, but I'll find Frannie and stay with her. I see her, she's just across the road."

I waved to her and waited for the lights to change. She looked good; she had stopped bleaching her hair and the dark crop she now sported suited her. She looked gamine and adorable with the short hair, a little like a young Audrey Hepburn. Her newfound penchant for dark, close-fitting clothes helped the comparison; they made her tall, slim frame look even more so. She was growing up fast.

"I'll be there as soon as I can," Quinn replied.

A nondescript white delivery van ran the lights, and as I watched in mute horror, it pulled to a stop right in front of Frannie. I tried to run to her but there was too much traffic. I hesitated for a second, wondering what to do. Should I teleport in a street full of people, where I'd be seen? The van pulled away only seconds after it stopped and Frannie wasn't there any more.

"Damn!" I cussed into the phone. "They've got her, someone's taken her."

"Just stay with her babe," Quinn insisted. "Do whatever it takes, I'll find you both."


	44. Gone

I shoved my phone into my pocket and did something that, had I thought about it, I would've known was stupid and risky. In my mind I reached out to the van and saw it speeding away. I looked inside and there were two men in the back with Frannie. I knew I couldn't appear out of thin air next to them, so I looked for another place to appear. The front seats were full, which left... the metal rack on the roof. Before I could think better of it, I teleported.

I appeared a few inches above the van Frannie was being held in. For a split-second I was pleased with myself. Then I realized the van was moving and I wasn't. It was already gone from beneath me and I was falling fast. I jumped again just before I hit the ground and appeared inside the van for a split-second - not long enough for anyone to see me, just long enough to get me moving as fast as the van was - then jumped to the roof again. This time, I grabbed the roof rack as I was re-appearing. With a sickening jerk, my arms were wrenched halfway from their sockets, and I landed hard on the metal rack. I was hurting, but I could feel that I'd be OK.

I held on tight as the world rushed by. I stayed completely still for a moment, hoping that nobody inside felt the 'thud' as I landed on the roof. If they did, they must've figured it was a bump in the road, because there was no indication that anyone knew I was there. I hadn't landed very gracefully, so I moved around until I was lying flat against the roof rack and away from the sides, so nobody could see me. Then I realized I didn't have to hide. I took Niall's smooth, milky white stone from my pocket, held in my hand, concentrated for a moment, and I was invisible... but I was only holding onto the speeding van with one hand. I tucked the stone back into my pocket and as soon as I let go of it, I was visible again. _Darn it!_ It had to be it against my skin to work. I thought for a moment and took the stone from my pocket again. This time, I reached down the front of my top and tucked it into my bra. It was uncomfortable, but at least it would be safe and secure there, tucked under my breast. I concentrated again, and I was invisible.

I was pleased it had worked: now I didn't have to worry about being spotted, I only had to concentrate on holding onto the van and keeping Frannie safe for long enough for Quinn to rescue her. The roof rack had a series of bars that formed a platform just above the roof, with an additional bar a few inches above each edge to keep the contents in place. I arranged myself so I was firmly wedged into it. I was lying face-down with my left forearm pressed against the front bar, and once I moved around, I could stretch out my legs so both feet touched the back bar. It hurt, bouncing on the metal tubing every time we went over a bump, but I was secure; I was holding on tightly, and I could brace with my feet when we sped up and with my arms when we slowed down, so I didn't get tossed around.

Once I was secure, I reached out with my mind and felt four weres and one terrified human in the van beneath me.

Frannie was thinking_ - shouldn't have stopped for that glass of water in the foyer, if I'd just made it across the lights I wouldn't be here. I hope Sookie saw me, I bet she thinks I stood her up. God, if she didn't see them take me I'm completely -_

I wanted to let Frannie know I was here and reassure her, but I wasn't very good at getting other people to hear my thoughts unless I was touching them, and even trying took all my concentration. Ironically, it was much easier to implant a suggestion someone would believe was their own, than it was to make them hear me speaking to them in their mind; people just assumed anything going inside inside their head was their own. So I had to let her worry a while longer; it was more important to find out who had her and where they were taking her. I blocked her out to concentrate on the others.

The four weres' minds were snarled and hard-to-read, but I had practiced with Quinn a lot recently and I was much better at understanding shifters' thoughts now. Their minds weren't full of words like humans'; they were a mix of images, instincts and emotions with just a few words thrown in. If I focused on one at a time, I could usually figure out what was on their mind.

I started with the driver. He was picturing the route to their destination: Sophie-Anne's old compound. They were supposed to come in through a service entrance and hand Frannie over to someone inside, who would pay them for her. Then they were heading to the airport to catch a flight back to Vegas, where they all belonged to the same motorcycle gang. The driver was worried they wouldn't make it back in time for dinner with his girlfriend Lisa tonight; if he was late on their anniversary, he was sure he wouldn't get laid for months. Then he figured that if he might be late, he'd just get laid before he headed home, thinking some horrible things about Frannie. I pulled out of his mind quickly, not wanting to know any more.

I got out my phone, set it to silent and texted Quinn:

_Frannie taken by 4 weres in white van. Im on roof rack, invisible. They r taking her 2 Queen's compound. They r all members of biker gang from Vegas._

I wasn't sure exactly where we were, but I knew Sophie-Anne's old compound wasn't far from where they took Frannie, so we didn't have long. I had to come up with a plan to give Quinn enough time to find us, so I looked around to see if there was anywhere I could make them stop. I spotted a McDonald's sign about a mile ahead of us. _Perfect,_ I thought to myself.

I used Hunter's mind trick to make the two weres in the front seat feel hungry. A moment later, the driver told the passenger he was starving, and the passenger pointed out the McDonald's. They agreed that going through the drive-thru wouldn't delay them too long, and pulled in to place their order. I heard Frannie yell when she realized where they were, trying to catch the attention of the staff. There was a loud crack as one of the weres in the back hit her, and I felt her panic as he stuffed a piece of fabric in her mouth and gagged her. I mentally apologized since it was my fault we stopped here. I hoped she was OK.

My phone vibrated and I pulled it out to see a message from Quinn: _Hold on, catching up 2 u._

The driver asked the guys in the back what they wanted and they all placed their order. While the van was stationary, I stayed completely still. I knew how sensitive Weres' hearing and smell were, so I was worried they would figure out I was there. I tried 'listening' to the man in the passenger seat but he was a tough read. It would take me a while to get into his mind, so I decided to leave him 'til last. I moved on to the guys in the back.

The first of the men in the back was a sad case. He was upset the other guy had tied Frannie up so tightly; he could see she was hurting and wanted to let her go. He was regretting the day he bought his bike because he hated having to kidnap some girl just to stay a member of the gang, but he knew that if he didn't help he'd get kicked out and he didn't want to lose his friends. Then he started worrying about whether he'd be able to 'perform' if the guy in the passenger seat, nicknamed Grouper, said they could have a go at her. I was so disgusted I couldn't stand to hear any more.

I dipped into the mind of the second guy in the back, the one who had hit Frannie and gagged her when she tried to scream. I immediately regretted it. He wasn't thinking anything that would be remotely useful to me; his mind was occupied with what he wanted to do to Quinn's sister. I concluded that he was a violent creep and hoped that Quinn caught up to us quickly.

Then I tried reading Grouper's mind again. Now that I knew he was the leader, I figured he would have the most useful information. It took me a few tries to decipher his thoughts, but once I was in, he was an easy read. I read him as deeply as I could without physical contact, which was enough to find out a lot. He had been offered a lot of money to collect Frannie and deliver her to the vampires, and because he gambled, he needed the cash. He had been instructed to have her roughed up before she was delivered, and even though he wasn't so into that, he knew his boys would enjoy her.

I hadn't known what kind of weres they were before, but in Grouper's mind I saw clearly that they were all wolves.

I also saw that he didn't know Frannie was Quinn's sister; he had been told she was a hooker who was working off a debt in one of de Castro's brothels, but she escaped before the debt was cleared and had to be brought back. He thought they were supposed to punish her for escaping, so they needed to do a job worthy of de Castro himself. I shuddered.

In the five minutes we were stopped, Quinn got close enough that I could faintly sense his emotions through the fairy bond we had started to form. He was worried and angry, ready to kill whoever had his sister. After reading the four wolves' minds, I knew he was wise to worry. I had already seen what they planned to do before they handed her over in Hunter's vision, but seeing it in their minds was even worse.

As soon as we were moving again, I texted Quinn everything I knew:

_They r wolves, leader is called Grouper. They don't know she is ur sister, they were told shes an escaped hooker._

Once the van was moving again, I felt a wave of indecision roll off Grouper. He was ambivalent about something, so I tuned back into his thoughts to see what it was. When I did, I felt sick. I saw an abandoned warehouse a few miles away, where he planned to take Frannie for a few hours before he handed her over to the vamps. He was told to let his boys have a go at her, but now he wasn't sure he should. They had to change their plans when Frannie didn't show up where they expected her and he was uncomfortable about taking her off the street. He hadn't noticed anyone following them, but he still figured someone might've seen them grab her and given their license plate to the police.

After convincing the two weres that they were hungry and getting them to stop, I knew I could push him either way. I thought carefully about what I should do. On the one hand, I really didn't want them to hurt Frannie. On the other hand, they were less than five minutes from the compound now, and once she was in there, I was pretty sure we wouldn't be able to get her out. I tried to ignore their plans for her and think through my strategy the way Quinn taught me. The warehouse was by far the better venue for the fight because it would be just the four of them; at the compound we would have guards to contend with as well.

I knew what I had to do, but I said a quick prayer first, hoping things would turn out OK. If Frannie got hurt because of my decision, I would hate myself for a long time. I reached into Grouper's mind and when he next thought about taking Frannie to the warehouse before they handed her over, I added a big surge of lust. His mind still wasn't completely made up, but he was closer. I did the same to the driver, and he made a turn at the next lights, driving them away from the compound and towards the warehouse. Grouper noticed and decided that since Beanbag was so keen, he'd let his boys have their fun.

In another situation, I would've laughed at the driver being nicknamed Beanbag; I was sure it was a funny story.

I texted Quinn immediately:

_They r taking her 2 abandoned warehouse. Over bridge 2 Gretna, off Belle Chasse Hwy nr Air Force base. Pls get here asap_

He was now close enough that I could sense his emotions, so I felt his fury when he read the message. He knew what it meant: they were taking her somewhere isolated for a few hours before they handed her over. I couldn't think about that though; I had to work out how I was going to hold off all four of them, until he caught us up.

The drive to the warehouse took over fifteen minutes and by the time we got there, my nerves were frayed. Quinn hadn't caught up with us at all; he was still at least five minutes behind; ten if the traffic stayed as bad as it had been so far. I had to do something to keep Frannie and I safe until he got here, and even though I had a plan that I thought would work, I was terrified. I had never taken on four opponents at once before, not even in training. I remembered what he had taught me about staying calm in battle, letting the adrenaline soak into my muscles to make me faster but not letting it affect my reasoning, so I took some deep, calming breaths.

The van pulled off the road and drove around the side of an empty warehouse. Grouper got out to open the big sliding door and I got my first good look at him. He was a bald and paunchy man in his forties, dressed in filthy jeans and a leather jacket with a skull and the words 'Bone Bleachers' on the back. If that was the name of their gang, I didn't like my odds against the four of them in a fight.

The driver, Beanbag, drove the van into the warehouse with me still on the roof. I was very grateful for Niall's invisibility stone. Lights came on overhead a few moments later, and I could see there was nothing in the warehouse that I could readily use as a weapon. I cussed internally. So it was just me, armed with nothing but a few fairy powers, against four nasty biker Weres. I only had to hold them off for five minutes or so, but the odds still weren't great.

As they parked the van, I realized that none of the others could see Grouper; the front of the van was facing away from him so Beanbag was looking the other way, and the other two were still shut in the back and the only window was covered over. Seeing my chance, I held out my hand and gave Grouper a big push across the room. He flew back to the wall and stuck to it, the same way I stuck Eric to a wall a few weeks ago. In theory, he would stay there until I chose to let him go.

Grouper cussed loudly when he hit the wall and Beanbag, who was sliding out of the driver's seat, ran to him. Beanbag looked young, early twenties or even late teens, but he already looked like someone you shouldn't mess with. He had black hair, sunburnt skin and a greasy look to him. He wore the same as Grouper: filthy jeans and a leather jacket. When he was almost there, I pushed Beanbag too. He flew the last few yards, hit the wall head on and rolled until he was facing outwards. Then he stopped completely still, right next to Grouper. They were both yelling and twitching, but they were firmly held for now.

I had immobilized two of my opponents, and with any luck, they would stay where they were until Quinn got here. The only downside was, moving them around by telekinesis - especially moving Grouper so far, at least thirty feet - left me feeling worn out. I calmed myself and started pulling down energy from the sky, so I would be able to keep going. I still had two opponents to deal with, and even though I'd trained for exactly this scenario, it was different with Quinn and Jason. Neither of them would actually hurt me.

"What the hell is going on?" Beanbag asked when he was done cussing. "How the fuck did we both get stuck to this wall?"

"We're under attack," Grouper yelled, finally figuring it out.

The two Weres in the back had been waiting to be let out, but as soon as they heard Grouper yell, the door flew open.

_Game on,_ I thought, although I really wasn't looking forward to this 'game'.

The Creep was first out of the van, and he looked exactly as I expected, except he wore a black wife beater instead of a jacket. He had close-cropped hair, tattoos, and the look of a man who'd spent most of his adult life in prison. He was well under six foot but he was solidly built, with muscles covering his entire frame. Everything about him told me this was not a guy I should mess with, and yet, I was about to take him on. He headed straight to Grouper and Beanbag, sniffing all around them, trying to figure out where the 'attack' came from. I breathed a sigh of relief that I didn't have to move from my perch on top of the van yet.

The Sad Case was out next, dragging Frannie with him. He was taller and slighter than the other men, with shaggy light brown hair and clean, neatly ironed jeans but the same leather jacket. Frannie's right eye was bruised and swollen, and I knew that was where The Creep had hit her in the McDonald's drive-thru. She looked terrified. As I watched, Frannie stomped on his foot hard enough that he let her go for a second.

Frannie turned back to the van and I saw in her mind that she was trying to get a wrench that was lying in the back. Her hands were bound together in front of her with thick rope, but she was sure she could move enough to hit them. She wasn't going to make it in time though; Sad Case was already after her. I picked the wrench up telekinetically and flung it towards him as hard as I could, striking him on the side of the head. He went down like a sack of potatoes, and his addled thoughts told me he was semi-conscious. He wasn't completely out of the fight yet, but I had managed to slow him down for a while.

The Creep was looking around wildly, trying to spot their attacker. Once again, I felt incredibly grateful to Niall for the invisibility stone he left for me; without it, I would've been lucky to get one of them immobilized before they spotted me. Unable to see me, The Creep ran for the van. I hoped he would jump in and hide until Quinn got here, but I was out of luck. A few feet away, his nostrils flared.

"Where's your friend?" he screamed at Frannie. He grabbed and shook her, but she was gagged so she couldn't answer him.

He threw her to the ground and turned around again, sniffing the air all around him. He started heading towards the van again, drawing a knife from his pocket as he did. Frannie's eyes went wide as he did.

_He's got a knife! Sookie, wherever you are, he's got a knife,_ she projected loudly. She wasn't even sure it was me, but she hoped...

The Creep sniffed the air again and headed straight towards me. I knew it was only a matter of time until he found me, so I was ready. When he stood on the step inside the open door to inspect the roof of the van, I kicked him hard in the face, then teleported across to the other side of the warehouse with a loud 'pop!' I landed on my feet, and was glad that Quinn made me practice moving around while I teleported so many times. But a kick to the head didn't seem to bother The Creep at all; if anything, it excited him.

The 'pop!' gave away where I had gone, and The Creep ran right towards me with Sad Case on his heels. I dodged them both, but they were able to track me by sound and smell so being invisible wasn't much of an advantage any more. They both moved in to attack me and Sad Case pulled out a knife too. I started reading their minds, looking for their next moves so I could keep ahead of them. I danced around for a couple of minutes as they both slashed and thrust with their knives, trying to hit me. This was what I was best at: dodging.

The Creep realized the futility of the situation and disengaged, heading back to the van for a better weapon. I mentally cheered because I was sure that one-on-one, I could take down Sad Case easily. If I was quick, I would have only one opponent to take on when The Creep returned. I still didn't like my odds against him, but I only had to last long enough for help to arrive. Quinn was getting closer by the second, but he was still at least two or three minutes away.

Without The Creep to show him where I was, Sad Case was much less accurate in targeting me. I dodged under his arm as he swung his knife at me and gave his arm an extra push telekinetically. His arm wrapped around him and his knife ended up lodged in the back of his other arm. He screamed and pulled it out, dropping it to the ground. As he leaned down to retrieve it, I brought my knee into his path and slammed it up into his nose. It broke with a sickening crunch and he went down heavily as I stood in front of him and watched. He still wasn't completely unconscious, but he had a concussion, a broken nose and a nasty wound on the back of his left arm. He wasn't tough enough to keep fighting through that, so he stayed down.

I smiled and was mentally patting myself on the back when something hit me hard on my left butt cheek. It stung like getting shot, but the pain was sharper and it was spreading fast. I reached around to feel what had happened, and something was sticking out of me. It was long and cylindrical with a fuzzy thing on the end. I pulled it out and looked at it but it was as invisible as my clothes and the contents of my pockets. I was starting to feel dizzy and sick, and I knew I couldn't keep fighting. I staggered as far away from Sad Case as I could get, looking for a spot to hide until Quinn got here.

I made it three steps before I fell over. The Creep heard me hit the ground and was beside me in an instant, groping blindly around my body until he lucked out and grabbed an ankle. I tried to kick him off me, but my legs were too floppy to cooperate. He patted his way up my body and when he got to my butt, he started groping me.

"Guess what we have here, boys?" The Creep jeered. "An invisible woman. Got a real big ass too, this one. I ain't never fucked an invisible woman. I ain't never killed one neither. Gonna have fun with this one, ain't we?"

I mustered all my concentration and teleported away from him, landing next to Frannie. She was by the van with the wrench in her hands and I took it from her before The Creep turned around. As soon as I touched it, the wrench was invisible too.

She was so shocked, she stared right at me for a moment, then realized that was a bad idea and pretended I wasn't there.

The thing they shot me with was still in my other hand and I set it down on a pile of boxes. Once I let it go, it was visible again. I looked to see what it was. It looked like a syringe with a tuft of red thread on the end and I realized it must be a tranquilizer dart. It was still two-thirds full. I picked it up again as The Creep stalked towards Frannie and I, sniffing the air as he went.

I realized Frannie would have a much better chance of surviving if her hands weren't bound - you can't even run properly with bound hands, I discovered in training, because it messes up your balance - so I mustered the last of my concentration to use my outfit-changing trick to take them off her. When they disappeared before her eyes, she looked so grateful she might cry.

"Go," I whispered to Frannie, so quietly she barely heard me.

Frannie ran and The Creep started to give chase, then realized it was a diversion and turned back to me. I was only upright because I was leaning against the van and I felt terrible. I wasn't quite sure why the van didn't disappear when I touched it like the dart and the wrench had, but I was in no fit state to think about that now. I wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep, but I knew that was a bad idea with The Creep around. I wished and hoped that Quinn would get here before The Creep reached me, but I could feel that he was still a couple of streets away. As The Creep stood in front of me, sniffing the air around me, a plan formed in my mind. I started swaying as though I was about to fall over (which wasn't far from the truth) and he smiled at me.

"Not so tough now, are you invisible bitch?" The Creep sneered at me. "The boys and I were just gonna fuck the stick figure over there, but now I felt the ass on you, I think we's all gonna like you better."

I swayed once more and went ahead with my plan. As I fell against the front of the van, my left arm against the window, I swung my right arm as hard as I could. The wrench made contact with the creep's crotch and he howled loudly. I smiled, hoping he would give up. Unfortunately, he was the kind of man who just gets angrier when he's hit in the balls. He straightened up and grabbed at me, finding my neck on the third attempt.

He wrapped his hands around my neck and squeezed as hard as he could, and the world started going dark around me.

_Change,_ Hunter's voice screamed faintly in my head, _be a fairy, the dart won't hurt you._

It was too late; I was already slipping away. I felt my concentration wane so much that I became visible again, and heard The Creep jeering. I was glad to lose consciousness before I heard any more, but then it occurred to me that by the time I woke up, he would've actually done the revolting things he was thinking about. I tried to fight but I was sinking deeper and deeper into a pool of darkness. The last dot of light winked out and I was gone.


	45. Doze

"Sookie, Sookie, wake up! Come on, please be OK, please," the girl's voice pleaded in my ear.

I opened my eyes and Frannie was leaning over me, shaking me to wake me up. Her face was bruised and swollen, her lip was split, she had a black eye and her shirt was badly torn. She looked terrible. I tried to tell her to stop shouting at me, but my lips and tongue didn't move the way they should and it came out as an incoherent mumble instead.

"John, she's waking up!" Frannie yelled.

I heard the chirruping sound tigers make in friendly greeting and realized Quinn was nearby. I tried to say his name but that didn't come out right, either. It felt like hours had passed since I was last awake and I had no idea where I was.

I tried to remember what was going on and why Frannie was with us, but for a few long moments, my brain didn't cooperate. I was confused and frightened. Then it all came flooding back: four Weres kidnapped her, I used Niall's invisibility stone to hide me while I rode on the roof of their van to see where they took her, I stuck two of them to the wall and took down a third so they wouldn't hurt her, then the fourth shot me with a tranquilizer dart and strangled me. It was such an unlikely story that if I hadn't been there, I wouldn't have believed it.

I tried to move but my body didn't do as I expected it to. I wanted to scream; I felt so helpless and frustrated that my body wasn't responding to my commands. My heart was thumping in my chest at a million miles an hour.

Then something Hunter said came back to me: the dart wouldn't affect me if I was in my part-fairy form. I thought about shifting for a split-second and it was done. I immediately felt a lot better and when I tried to move, I found that everything responded normally, although it hurt a lot. I looked around and I was still in the warehouse, but Eric's car was now parked behind the van.

"Woah," Frannie breathed, taking a step back from me.

I was glowing brightly, my hair was paler and sparklier, and my teeth were sharp little points. I could understand why she was freaked out.

I stood up and stretched gingerly, then gave her a big smile. "Hi, Frannie," I greeted her. "The stuff in that dart doesn't affect me when I'm like this."

She relaxed visibly. "Hi Sookie," she greeted me back. "Thank you so much for coming to help me."

"You're welcome," I told her and smiled my feral fairy smile.

She laughed, but I could tell that even smiling hurt her face.

I looked around to see what was happening. I was pleased to see that the two Weres I stuck to the wall were right where I left them, even though I had been unconscious for a while. I was also pleased that the one I took down was still down; he was conscious but he had sensibly decided to stay on the ground and not fight us.

I wasn't as pleased when I saw the state of the last one: Quinn was in his tiger form with blood and guts all over him, with The Creep underneath him in three or four pieces. He was gnawing away at something that looked like a limb. I turned away.

"What happened?" I asked Frannie.

"John got here a couple minutes after you passed out. That shithead was on top of me." Tears started rolling down her cheeks.

I put my arms around her and she leaned into me, crying. "Are you OK?" I asked softly.

"He got here before the creep raped me, if that's what you mean," she sobbed against my shirt, "but no, I'm not OK."

"You'll be alright," I soothed her. "You'll feel better, I promise."

"How would you know?" she snapped back, stepping away from me.

I didn't know what to say, but clearly, the look on my face said more than enough.

"Oh," she gasped. "Have you been..." she trailed off without finishing the question.

I just nodded and told her, "You'll be OK. It'll take time, but you will be."

She hugged me again. For a few moments it seemed like she was trying to comfort me, but then her strength ran out and she was crying all over my shirt again. I held her and rubbed her back to soothe her. A few minutes later, I heard the wet gloppy sound of a shifter changing and a minute later Quinn's arms were around both of us. He wore jeans and nothing else.

"You got here in time," I told him quietly.

"Only thanks to you," he murmured in my ear. "Without you and Hunter..."

"Don't even think about it," I insisted. "We're OK, we're all OK."

I didn't want to remember what I saw in Hunter's head. We had prevented it from happening, and that was all that mattered.

"What a touching scene," Beanbag sneered at us, still stuck to the wall. "A fucking Kodak moment, hero saves the girls."

Rage flared inside me, and with it came uncontrollable bloodlust. I wanted to rip his flesh off with my teeth and bathe in his blood, tear him limb from limb and then have sex on top of his remains. Ugh, violent fairy instincts. Quinn sensed my rage and sent me all the calm he could. The type of bond fairies have with their mates was forming between us, and we were starting to sense each other's feelings.

I walked over to Beanbag and Grouper and gave them my most inhuman smile. "Gee, Beanbag, or should I say _Steven Harris_, do you think you'll make it back in time for your anniversary dinner? What will Lisa say when she hears that you missed it because you were trying to rape someone's little sister? And you Grouper, _Frank Potts_, will you still be able to waltz into the King's compound and collect your money without the girl? Whatever will happen if you don't pay off your gambling debts?"

They both stared at me in shock.

"You don't know me, fairy," sputtered Grouper / Frank.

"No, but I will," I smiled at him, showing plenty of teeth. I reached up to put my hands on either side of his face.

He protested loudly as I flicked through his mind, pulling out all the information I needed. He was hired by de Castro's head of security, Ferdinand Marenco, who was in New Orleans right now. Beyond that, he knew very little. His instructions were to grab Frannie, rough her up, have his boys rape her and then hand her over to the vampires. He was told to keep her alive and able to talk, but to make sure she looked really bad - preferably emotionally traumatized as well as physically beat up. They had waited in a hotel room for an hour, expecting Frannie to come right to them and knock on the door. When they decided she wasn't coming, they went after her instead.

Then I had a look around his mind to see if he knew anything else we could use, but he didn't. He was a low-level thug so he knew very little about the various kidnappings, murders, assaults and thefts he had committed. He did the job, got paid and spent the money on booze, women and poker right away. I got out of his mind as quickly as I could.

I told Quinn everything I found out.

I guessed this was a plot to blackmail him - if he saw his sister in the state the Weres were supposed to leave her in, he would do anything to make her safe again - but there was no confirmation of that yet, so I kept my suspicions to myself.

"Who the hell are you people?" Beanbag / Steve asked in amazement, after hearing all that I knew already. He looked worried now.

"I'm her fairy Godmother and the big guy is her brother, Quinn," I told him.

Grouper didn't need to be told the latter: he'd known who Quinn was the moment he walked in, and knew right away that they were in trouble - but his sidekick was strictly muscle, without even the smarts to run the low-level thuggery they were all employed in.

"Holy shit," Beanbag muttered, looking frightened now. "You're John Quinn, the tiger?"

"Yes," Quinn gave him a furious look, "and you just messed with my sister _and_ my mate."

I could feel that he wanted to shift into tiger form and disembowel them right away; the only reason he hadn't was because I'd restrained them before they could touch Frannie, so he didn't have any right to hurt them under shifter law. The Creep had committed blood offenses against both of us and Quinn could legally avenge us on the spot, so he had taken the brunt of my boyfriend's rage. There was nothing left of him but a pile of bloodied bones. _So much for The Creep being a 'Bone Bleacher'_, I thought. The others were still alive for now, but they had made an enemy for life. There weren't many things Quinn held grudges over, but his was definitely one of them. I couldn't say I blamed him.

I decided I'd better distract Quinn before he got himself into trouble. He was barely containing the fury he felt towards them for taking his sister, and if they said something rude enough, I was pretty sure he would lose his temper.

"What are we going to do with these creeps?" I asked Quinn, moving so he had to look away from his sister's attackers.

"The local Packmaster is on his way," he told me, "he'll deal with them. They didn't get permission to be here and they kidnapped my sister for the vamps. Those are major offenses, so their punishment won't be pretty. They were going to rape her and beat her up, but you stopped those three from laying a hand on her so I'm not sure they'll be punished for that."

I still felt the urge to tear them to pieces, but I fought it so I could think clearly. Quinn's fury was bad enough; we didn't need my fairy instincts in the mix as well. If either of us lost control, I could see it ending badly for all of us.

I suggested, "I guess we'd better tie them up so the locals can collect them?"

Quinn just nodded, then went and popped the trunk of Eric's car. He retrieved some ropes and brought them over. Frannie was sitting in the passenger seat with the door open, looking upset. Quinn and I worked quickly, tying up Sad Case first, then bringing down Grouper and Beanbag one at a time. They both tried to fight him while he tied them up, but he had no difficulty restraining them. He was many times stronger than either of them, and one quick knock to the head each was enough to convince them not to take him on.

He was thinking ahead, as always, making sure their account of what happened seemed unreliable in as many ways as possible (a mild concussion being just one more) so no matter what Frannie's attackers said, I wouldn't yet by outed for my new fairy powers. The longer we kept them secret, the better, he figured. I realized then why he'd always wanted to stop my training just before sunset: so Bill wouldn't see what I could do and report back. If anyone tried to hurt me he wanted my powers to be a surprise.

Realizing how hard he'd had to work for so many years just to keep his family safe, I forgave him for what happened today. Even in fairy form, I'd been disturbed to see what he'd done to The Creep, but knowing what he'd walked in on, I understood. If I caught someone trying to do that to Hunter or even Jason, there'd be bolts of lightning shooting out of my hands before I could think twice... but thankfully, just because they were male, it was far less likely anyone would ever try.

Shortly after the Weres were all tied up, Quinn got a phone call and went out to the road to show the Packmaster where we were. I didn't want to be seen in my part-fairy form so I changed back, and the drug from the dart immediately took effect again. The pain of my injuries melted away, but I was so woozy Frannie offered me the passenger seat and I gratefully accepted.

I drifted away for a while and when I came around again, there were half a dozen more people in the warehouse. Quinn was talking to one of them, a man with heavily freckled skin and carrot-orange hair on top of a large and muscular body, while the others mulled around, waiting for orders. It felt like another few hours had passed, but very little had changed around me. I couldn't work out what was happening.

"We'll need a clean-up crew for this one," Quinn's voice drifted over to me, sounding serious. "When I got here, he was on top of Frannie, trying to rape her. He committed multiple blood offenses against my sister and my girlfriend, so I avenged them."

"As is your right," the man replied.

"The others, you can deal with," Quinn continued. "They kidnapped Frannie for the vampires. They were all going to..."

I drifted away again and didn't hear the rest of what he said. Each time I woke it felt like hours had passed, but the scene was essentially the same when I opened my eyes again.

"It took me a while to get together enough people to take on four big biker dudes," the man said defensively. It was the same voice I had heard before. "We're not you, Quinn, none of us could take down those four by ourselves."

Quinn snorted loudly. "I only dealt with that guy," he said in a condescending voice. "My girlfriend handled three of them by herself before I got here and dead meat there had to shoot her with a tranq dart to catch her. A hundred-thirty pound woman can take these guys and you need five big Weres to back you up, Hollis?" He laughed bitterly.

I felt six sets of eyes staring at me, a sleepy girl in a car, and 'heard' snarled shifter minds wondering how I could possibly take down three big biker Weres all by myself.

"Your girl must have a few tricks up her sleeve," the man finally said.

"John's been training her," Frannie told them. "She was amazing. You should've seen how she dodged them, all four of them were trying to grab her and she slipped away at the last second, every single time. It would've been funny if I wasn't so scared. One of them was so dumb that she dodged his knife and his arm swung around and cut him, then when he went to pick it up she kneed him in the nose. The other two she just danced around 'til they were off balance and pushed them over so they hit their heads."

I noticed that she didn't mention anything about invisibility or telekinesis, and I was grateful for that.

I drifted off again and when I woke, the car was moving and Frannie was sitting on my lap.

"Hey," I said wearily. "Where are we?"

"We're gonna get Frannie's stuff from the hotel," Quinn told me, now wearing a t-shirt as well. "Then we're headed to your place, if that's OK with you? I'd like to keep her with us for a night or two, while I figure out what's going on with our Mom."

"Sure," I agreed. "We'll find somewhere to put you."

"The couch is fine," Frannie insisted, "and I can babysit your nephew to earn my keep."

I went to tell her that wouldn't be necessary - that as my mate's family, she was my family too - but I slipped back into unconsciousness before I could. I stirred for a few seconds when they got out of the car, but went to sleep again almost immediately.

When I next woke, we were back on the Interstate. I yawned loudly and stretched as much as I could with Frannie sitting on top of me, in the passenger seat of Eric's two-seater Corvette.

"How are you feeling?" Quinn asked me, reaching over to stroke my face. He was hoping he and I were still OK, after what he just did.

We were.

"Better," I smiled. "That crap's finally wearing off, I think. I might stay awake for more than a minute. Where are we?"

"We just left New Orleans. We'll pass through Baton Rouge in about 20 minutes."

"Huh?" I was confused. "What have you been doing all the rest of the time?"

"The rest of the time?" Frannie asked, sounding equally puzzled. "We only stopped at the hotel long enough to have a quick shower each and for John to lick my wounds so they'll heal faster. Getting food didn't take long, either. We would've gone through the drive-thru, but you turned so green when we mentioned it that we ate inside... still, it was only a few minutes."

Quinn was chuckling. "How long did it feel like to you, babe?"

"Well, I've been asleep for a few hours," I told him. "Haven't I?"

"Ketamine," he laughed, "that's what was in the dart. Veterinary tranq of choice for shifter extractions, it'll take down an elephant if you get enough into them. It screws up your sense of time, that's why it feels like hours. It's only been half an hour since we left the warehouse. You were dizzy and you couldn't get your limbs to do what you wanted them to, right?"

"Yeah," I agreed, "and my heart was racing. I felt like I was going to vomit, too. Oh, and my vision was blurry."

"It should wear off soon, it only lasts an hour or so," he told me.

"Lucky you," Frannie turned to grin at me, "humans pay money to take that stuff at nightclubs."

"Now that's just silly," I marveled. "They'd just go to sleep, wouldn't they?"

I didn't hear the answer; I was already dozing off again.


	46. Better

By the time I woke properly, it was 4:30pm. As I looked out the window of Eric's car, I recognized where we were, which wasn't far from New Orleans. I realized we either must have been keeping to the speed limit, or stopped somewhere on the way.

"Hey, sleeping beauty," Quinn smiled at me, taking his eyes off the road a little longer than I liked.

Frannie was still sitting on my lap, and as she turned to say hi, pain flared all over my body.

"Ow," I groaned. Now that the drugs in the tranquilizer dart were wearing off, I was very sore.

"Oh, sorry," she apologized. "I didn't mean to hurt you. That creep kicked you in the ribs a few times while you were out."

She wasn't leaning on me now, so I pulled up my top to inspect my injuries. My left hip was one huge bruise that extended far below the waistband of my jeans; I fell on it heavily when I landed on top of the van, even bouncing a little to make the bruise really spread. Ouch. There was also an inch-wide line of bruises across the bottom of my ribs, where one of the bars of the roof rack dug into me each time the van went over a bump. Then there were three round bruises that were much darker than the others. I guessed those were from being kicked, because I couldn't remember getting them. One was over my ribs and I felt a lot of pain there when I breathed.

"Looks like you've got a couple broken ribs," Quinn concluded.

"How bad does the rest of me look?" I asked weakly. It really hurt to speak.

Frannie pulled down the visor so I could look in the mirror, and I saw a ring of bruises running all the way around my neck where The Creep strangled me. I should've expected that because it hurt to swallow, let alone talk. I checked the rest of me over carefully and all I found were a dozen small bruises scattered on my arms - contact marks from the fight, which I barely felt - and a few spots on my legs that felt bruised but were hidden by my jeans. Plus the spot on my backside where the tranquilizer dart hit me hurt, too.

I breathed a sigh of relief: I was OK! I had come out of the fight relatively unharmed.

"Babe, you did great," Quinn told me proudly. "You went up against four nasty Were bikers and came out with just a few bruises and the broken ribs. They had to shoot you with horse tranqs to take you down!"

He handed me a water bottle and I took it gratefully. After a few mouthfuls, my throat felt a little better.

I tried to smile, but my heart wasn't in it. "They only gave me the three smaller bruises on my stomach and the ones around my neck," I told him. "Oh, and a few of the little marks on my arms. All the others are from riding on that roof rack, it wasn't very comfortable."

"You were on the roof of the van?" Frannie asked incredulously. "How did you get up there?"

"Sookie can teleport," Quinn beamed. "She got her fairy powers, at last. She really kicks ass, but I guess you noticed that."

Waves of lust were rolling off my boyfriend every time he talked about me fighting, and I wondered whether it was just battlefield lust, or whether he was turned on by me fighting relatively competently. I couldn't get a clear reading on which one it was.

"Yeah, I saw," Frannie agreed. "You were awesome. But why did you need to be on top of the van?"

"I was across the road when they took you, and I had to stay with you so I could lead John to you," I told her.

"Why didn't you just hop in the back with me? You were invisible, they wouldn't have known you were there," Frannie puzzled.

"They would've heard my heartbeat," I explained, "and probably smelled me there as well."

"Why didn't you teleport straight to New Orleans when H-, uh, our seer showed you what would happen?" Quinn asked curiously. "Not that I minded the company on the drive here, but you could've got there much faster by yourself."

"That was my first plan, but it wouldn't work," I answered. "You had to be there as well, and you needed me in the car to read the minds of all the people ahead of us so you could drive fast enough to get there in time. If it was just me and Frannie against the four of them, we would've lost. Even if I got there first and we tried to run, they would've caught up to us."

"That makes sense," he smiled. "It's so handy having a seer around to show you whether a plan will work before you do it."

"Oh yeah," I grinned back. "You can speed up again, by the way. I'm awake enough to scan the people up ahead. We don't have to go as fast as before, but 100 or so would be fine. It'd be good to get Eric's car back before he wakes."

Quinn smiled broadly and the car sped up. We sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, while I read the minds of everyone in front of us to find out whether there were any police or obstacles ahead of us. Then Frannie spoke again.

"Why did you come to help me?" she asked me quietly. "I've been so awful to you."

"I saw what they planned to do to you when I read the mind of our seer, and I couldn't let any woman go through that," I told her. "Plus John would be real upset if anything happened to you. My brother's a total ass and I'm still upset whenever he gets himself in trouble."

"Thank you," she replied with tears running down her face. "I'm real sorry about the things I said at the picnic, and that day when Mom and I came to your place. You're not really a bitch, I just didn't know why you split up with him. He only told me everything that happened between you guys after the picnic when I grilled him about it. You did the right thing dumping him, he was such an idiot."

"Sitting right here," Quinn said in a warning tone. "And when did you and Mom visit Sookie?"

"Just after she dumped you," she told him. "I'm so sorry, Sookie, I didn't know he hadn't contacted you. He talked about you all the time and wrote you all these letters, so I thought he must've got a message to you, I mean before he sent me."

"Why didn't either of you tell me?" he asked in a frustrated tone, but neither of us were listening.

"Apology accepted," I replied to Frannie.

She kept talking anyway. "When he told me that he promised to be around so you'd sleep with him, then just disappeared instead, it totally made sense why you were pissed off with him. My own brother is 'say anything to get in your pants' guy, the one whose promises are worth nothing in the morning. Goddam men."

I couldn't stifle my snort. She looked at me curiously, then her expression changed and she seemed... hurt. I eavesdropped on her thoughts for a second, and she had assumed I was ridiculing her. I wasn't.

"Honey, you should meet my brother," I explained. "He's that guy multiplied by ten. I got cursed with telepathy and he got the ability to seduce anyone he wants. He's been with every eligible woman for about five towns over, plus a lot who weren't eligible, too. Listening to his thoughts before he goes out on a date... ew." I made a face. "No wonder I've never slept with a human."

"Really?" she exclaimed. "Never? What, you're strictly Supes-only?"

I sighed. "I've gone on dates with human men -"

"Well of course. Look at you," she said in a matter-of-fact tone.

I smiled and continued, "- but it's just so off-putting to hear a date's thoughts. It's bad enough when you're trying to have a conversation with them, but when you're kissing them..." I scrunched up my face.

"What have you caught them thinking?" she asked breathlessly.

Frannie was completely engrossed in our conversation and Quinn looked fascinated too. I could feel that he was thrilled his girlfriend and his sister were having a 'girl talk' session, so I decided to keep going, even if I was revealing a lot of men's private thoughts to do so. I wasn't betraying any specific confidences, so I decided that was OK.

"About me? I've heard that my ass is too big three times from men I was on dates with. I guess I don't need to tell you how those dates ended," I winked at her.

"What, you didn't want to sleep with them after they thought that about you? I can't imagine why," she laughed.

"Sleep with them? I didn't even want to kiss them goodnight!"

"What else do they think about?"

"Well, you know how they say there's boob men and butt men? Not true. Every single human male I meet thinks about my boobs, unless they're gay. Sometimes even the gay ones check them out, but at least they're not imagining doing stuff to me. The better-mannered guys don't get caught staring, but they all slobber mentally. It gets old real fast."

She looked jealous for a second. "Well, I sure don't have that problem," she grumbled, looking down at her own chest.

"No, but I caught a few men checking out your legs at Rhodes, in the hospital."

"Really?" She grinned and looked down at her own legs with renewed appreciation. "What else did they think about me?"

"Sweetie, you don't wanna know," I warned.

"No, I do, please tell me," she begged.

"Well, I warned you... Human males, their minds mostly go right from 'I like the look of that body part' to imagining having sex with you, with nothing in between. No 'I wonder what she's like as a person', no dinner and a movie, no foreplay. They see something they like and in their minds they're immediately bending you over something and going for it. It's kinda gross."

I felt a wave of fury roll off Quinn while I spoke, and started laughing like a madwoman.

"What?" Frannie asked, puzzled.

"Sorry," I pulled myself together. "Your brother doesn't like hearing the things other men think about his sister."

"Or his girlfriend," he corrected. "If they're going to mentally fuck you, they can at least imagine taking you out somewhere nice first, you are a lady," he joked. "Although I'm glad they're all so selfish, I wouldn't want you going back for imaginary seconds."

I laughed long and hard at his comments, even though it hurt to move my broken ribs, and we all fell into a comfortable silence.

After a while, I got to thinking about the day's events, the horrible decision I had to make on Frannie's behalf, and how bad things could've been for her if I'd miscalculated. If Quinn had arrived a few minutes later... if I'd taken out one less of her attackers before he got there... I hated to think of all the things that could've gone wrong, just because the best plan I could think up in the heat of the moment wasn't that great a plan at all.

Now that I could relax and think clearly, I could see plenty of better plans. I could've telekinetically broken some vital part of the van's engine to delay them. I could've used my outfit-changing trick to bind them all in silver, but I arrogantly decided to fight them. Why was I so stupid? I could've stuck the half-full tranq dart in The Creep. I could've conjured up a silver necklace so he couldn't strangle me. Oh, except silver doesn't work on Weres 'til they shift. I should've changed into my part-fairy form the second Hunter told me to; I hesitated for a second and then it was too late. I should've moved away from Sad Case as soon as I took him down so The Creep had to find me again before he could shoot me. I should've conjured up an outfit that gave me more protection against the tranquilizer dart. Would the chain mail have stopped it? I suspected it might, and while I hadn't wanted to use it because it made enough noise when I moved that I'd be easy to locate, maybe that was the wrong call. Heck, maybe I could've just pulled down a whole lot more energy from the sky, so I could throw the other two over to the nearest wall and stick them there too.

I was stressing about it so much that I wasn't scanning the minds of everyone ahead of us well enough. That would be just perfect, if I got us all hurt or got Quinn fined for speeding because I wasn't doing my job and didn't spot obstacles or cops up ahead. I gave myself a sharp mental rebuke for being so flaky.

"What's on your mind, babe?" my boyfriend asked. "You look upset."

I almost said it was nothing, that I was fine, but then I realized that this wasn't even about me. I put Frannie's safety in jeopardy with a bad decision and I should let her know. She was treating me like her hero now, and that was the last thing I deserved after what I did.

"I owe you an apology too, Frannie," I admitted quietly. "For something I did today."

"No!" she exclaimed. "You came to save me. You took care of three of those guys all by yourself. You did great."

I burst into tears and couldn't find the words to tell her about the decision I had to make.

"What happened?" Quinn asked gently, taking my hand. "You can tell me anything. You know that, right?"

I nodded but kept crying.

"What's wrong?" Frannie asked, sounding really worried. "What did you do that you have to apologize for?"

"It's my fault they took you to that warehouse," I eventually choked out. "The leader couldn't decide whether to take you straight to the Queen's compound or to follow orders and take you to the warehouse first. Making them go to McDonald's only bought a few minutes and John was still too far away to help and there would've been so many guards at the compound, I couldn't take them all by myself. That's why I made them decide to go to the warehouse instead, we had a better chance of winning the fight there, but I didn't win and that creep was on top of you when John got there and if he'd been even a minute later..."

"Sookie, you did the right thing," Quinn reassured me. "I hate to think about this, but even if all four of them raped her, it still would've been better than what de Castro would do to her if he got her. If they'd taken her to the compound, I couldn't rescue her, even with you backing me up. You have to make horrible decisions in battle and if you get the right outcome, you can't look back."

I wasn't convinced. "But there were so many ways I could've handled it better. I could've broken their engine telekinetically so they'd be stranded until you got there and dealt with them. I could've worn my chain mail so the dart didn't get me. I could've tried harder in training, so I could teleport someone with me by now. If I could've just grabbed her and popped her straight back to my place -"

"We all have 20-20 hindsight," he interrupted. "You make the best decisions you can on the spot, but then you think about it hours later and suddenly you know exactly what you should've done. But you'll never know if doing things differently would've given you a better outcome. Any of those things could've made things worse instead. We'll go through it all in training and work on anything you want to do better next time - learning to disable engines telekinetically is a great idea - but ruminating on this isn't going to help.

"You have to make quick decisions in a fight. The worst thing you can do is second-guess yourself and hesitate when you should act. You did well out there, you were up against tough odds and you got the right outcome. Just because you can come up with a better plan now you've had hours to think about it, doesn't mean the plan you came up with in a few seconds in a scary situation was bad. You did good, stop convincing yourself you didn't."

"I'm still sorry," I told Frannie.

"Don't be," she refused. "I won't accept your apology because you have nothing to be sorry for, you came to help me even though I was horrible to you and you got hurt much worse than I did."

"I only have bruises and broken ribs," I whispered. "Nobody tried to rape me this time."

"Yeah they did," she countered. "You think that scumbag left you alone when you passed out? I had to hit him in the head with that wrench to get him off you. Twice."

"Thanks," I smiled at her.

"I haven't taught you what to do if someone tries that," Quinn apologized. "I have to cover that in your training, you need to know how to get away even if you're pinned to the ground."

"No," I started crying again. "Please don't. I couldn't stand you even pretending you could force me, I trust you and I don't want to do anything that might change that. If I have to learn how to fight someone off, I'd rather have Bill teach me."

Quinn looked at me like I'd grown another head. "You want _him_ to train you to fight off a rapist?"

"I don't want to think of any more men like that, it's bad enough already," I tried to explain. "Besides, if I need to be as scared as I'd be in a real attack so I learn how to deal with it, it would be better for Bill to train me. If you ever scared me like that, if I believed for one second that you could... I'd have to split up with you, I couldn't sleep with you ever again."

"So you guys are back together?" Frannie bounced on my knee excitedly. She hasn't dared ask her brother, just in case.

"We are," I confirmed, wiping away my tears. "Officially back together and madly in love." I couldn't help a huge grin.

Quinn wore an even bigger smile than I did. He shifted slightly in his seat, then twisted his body and his head so she could see his neck, using one hand to push his shirt collar back to expose the scar there while he kept the other hand on the wheel. Thankfully, he was still using his peripheral vision to watch the road.

"Fran," he got her attention so she'd look over at him.

"Ohmigod!" she exclaimed, then turned in my lap and threw her arms around me. "Congratulations! Wow, this is so great."

"Ow," I complained as pain flared through my broken ribs.

She quickly let me go, then started studying my neck, looking for a mark there.

"He hasn't marked me yet. I've asked him about five times, but he wouldn't do it 'til we'd had a long talk about what it would mean."

She nodded. "That's good. You have to be certain before you do that, you can't take it back later."

"I am," I grinned. "We both are. We'll do it soon."

Quinn and I exchanged a long, loving look, both thinking that we couldn't wait 'til we got home and were alone again. We were both sure that tonight was the night; that this evening he would mark me and mate me and make me all his, just as he was all mine.

Frannie went to hug me again, stopping herself at the last second. "I'm so pleased, he's nuts about you. When we were locked up in de Castro's compound all those weeks, it was Sookie this, Sookie that, 'when I get out and see Sookie again', all the time," she grinned.

"Frannie!" Quinn growled at her, thinking that she was making him sound like a love-sick puppy dog.

"He stayed faithful to you the whole time we were there," she continued, ignoring her brother's embarrassment, "even though it would've made life easier for both of us if he was boytoy to one of the vamps. A few of them wanted him, but nooo, he has a girlfriend and he won't cheat on her. He wouldn't let me have any fun with them either, and some of them were real hot for dead guys."

"I was faithful to you, too," I interrupted. I felt like it was important that he knew.

Quinn looked surprised. "You weren't back with Eric? When I got there on the night of the takeover and he was at your house, I assumed you were back with him."

"No, I still wanted you to come back and make things right between us," I admitted. "Even after we split up..." I trailed off.

"Yeah, I couldn't move on either," he concurred. "Nobody else seemed right after I met you."

He stroked my face lovingly and I gave him a soft, misty-eyed smile. His touch made my skin tingle and I felt happy all over.

I touched my hand to his and silently told him what it took for Eric to get me back into bed again: a concussion and a whole lot of vampire blood (much more than I needed just to heal, i.e. enough to make me extra-horny as well), then waking up in only my lingerie with Eric right there leering at me, when I'd just seen Quinn again and finally concluded we were never going to get back together.

"Oh," he whispered, realizing the role he'd played in me finally deciding I had to move on.

"Yeah, yeah," Frannie rolled her eyes at us. "Here we go again. Sookie, Sookie, Sookie, blah blah blah. Broken record, much? I almost strangled him in his sleep to shut him up, I got so sick of hearing about you. When I found out he didn't tell you he was in trouble, just disappeared and didn't take your calls, I slapped him and called him a -"

"Frannie!" Quinn shouted; evidently she was pissing him off in the way only a sibling can.

"- moron," she finished. "He wrote you all these letters, and they were soooo romantic, and any woman who -"

"Shut. Up." He ground the words out between his teeth, getting angrier by the second.

I laughed at the both of them, arguing like they were still children. It was funny, when it wasn't my brother bringing that out in me.

"It wasn't like she said," Quinn spluttered, thinking I was laughing at him - the reaction he expected me to have, to his, quote, _horribly written cheesy love letters_, which he thought I'd just 'heard' all about from his sister. "I only wrote stuff down to work out how to say it, because I was feeling things and I didn't know how to tell you, and I hid those letters so damn well, I don't know how she even found -"

"It's OK," I stopped him, reaching over to stroke his face. "There's a lot less wrong with writing your girlfriend love letters when you have to be apart for a while, than just disappearing without a word."

"Yeah, I know," he agreed, calming down, "but they were bad. I'm so not good at -"

"No they weren't," Frannie interrupted. "They were sweet. They were all about -"

"Shut! Up!" he repeated, his face turning bright red.

"- how he thought he might be in love with you, but it was different somehow, and how maybe you were his mate even, and -"

"Francine," he growled her name, and I was pretty sure anyone but his sister would be terrified to be addressed that way. The hairs on my arms were standing on end, and that growl wasn't even directed at me.

"- they were so mushy and cute and I hope he kept them somewhere so I can find them and show you, they're totally adorable and -"

"Just shut the fuck up or I will have you back at school by tomorrow morning!" he yelled at her, thumping the steering wheel almost hard enough to break it. It was a horrible threat to make because after what happened to her today, she needed a few days with people who loved and supported her before she could face the bitches at her boarding school again - and he knew it. He was about to say something much worse, though. "I don't -"

"Hush." I put the full force of my fairy magic behind that one word, and his mouth stopped talking while his brain kept going.

_- know why I fucking came to rescue you if you're gonna be like this_, he finished, but thankfully I was the only one who heard him say that. _God, sorry, I didn't mean that, _he 'said' an instant later, looking at his sister apologetically, and it was only then that he realized his mouth was refusing to move.

I touched his arm so I could speak to him silently for a moment. _Once you've said something like that, you can't take it back._

He realized what I'd done then, and his expression turned to gratitude. _Thank you so much, if I'd said that aloud... god, I don't know why I lose my temper around her, but once she gets going like that -_

I interrupted him to explain that, _She wasn't trying to hurt you. She thinks what you did was sweet and romantic, and she thought I would, too._

He looked ashamed, for about three seconds. Then he remembered what Frannie told me and looked mortified instead. He'd skim-read a few books of famous love letters over the years to make sure they'd be OK for his Mom (she was a sucker for the romantic stuff, just like me), so he thought he knew enough about what made a great love letter to be sure his were terrible. He didn't have any pretty ways to express himself, but he also couldn't figure out how to say anything directly back then, because he wasn't sure how he felt yet. In his mind, he'd written pages and pages of pointless drivel that all just added up to, 'I wish I was with you right now'... which, considering where he was at the time, wasn't much of a compliment. Frannie's opinion of them was entirely different; she thought that, quote, _any woman who got letters like those would fall in love on the spot_. Or, more accurately, if anyone wrote _her_ letters like that, she would be instantly besotted.

She wasn't thinking about that now though. Instead, she was sitting silently on my knee, her body stiff, trying to make sure she didn't do anything else to annoy her brother. She'd been so relaxed before, but her good-natured ribbing provoked such an outburst that she felt really anxious now. She hadn't been trying to annoy him; now that she knew he hadn't contacted me the whole time they were imprisoned in de Castro's palace, she figured he wasn't good at telling me what was on his mind, so she was trying to help him with that. She was doing as good a job as a seventeen-year-old could, to fix her adult guardian's perceived relationship issues.

I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her to me. "After what you've just been through, you can stay with us for a few days to make sure you're OK. Can't she, John?" I pointedly asked, releasing him from my fairy magic at last.

"Yeah, I'm sorry I said that," he apologized. "I didn't mean it, I just wanted you to shut up already."

"Thanks, Sookie," she said, trying to tuck her head under my chin the way Hunter often did when he was upset, so his ear was against my chest and he could listen to the comforting rhythm of my heartbeat. She was a few inches taller than me, though, so it didn't quite work. I realized then that even though she seemed almost grown up most of the time, Frannie hadn't quite left childhood behind, yet.

The rest of the drive home was uncomfortably silent, and 'hearing' the contents of both of their thoughts, I got the distinct feeling that sibling arguments weren't unusual for my mate and his sister.

Thankfully, in the silence Quinn drove a lot faster than he would otherwise, eager to get home and out of the car. That was good, because the sooner we got back, the better our chances of getting Eric's precious car home before he woke. I hoped that he wouldn't be too angry with us for borrowing it. My boyfriend wasn't thinking about it yet - he was still mentally chastising himself for losing his temper with his sister - but now his scent was all over Eric's car as well as 'his' woman, I was pretty sure we were coming back to yet another big fight.


	47. Back

Quinn, Frannie and I arrived at my place well before sunset, but the lightproof roller shutters on my windows were all closed and I immediately knew Eric was up and about. He was old enough that he woke while the sun was still up, and he could get up and do things so long as he was somewhere completely lightproof.

Sure enough, as soon as I closed the front door behind the three of us, Eric was right there blocking our path.

"What happened to my car?" he demanded. "Where did you take it? You'd better not have damaged it." With the shutters covering every window, he couldn't see whether it was OK for himself, so he was interrogating us instead.

"Well, that cow we hit didn't leave nearly as big a dent as I expected," Quinn teased. "A body shop should be able to fix it."

"Are you sure?" I played along. "It looks pretty bad to me."

"Nah, it'll be fine," Quinn continued our charade. "It's just panel damage. Well, panels and that headlight. I'm more worried about the suspension, it's been so hard to drive since we went over all those rocks. I hope they didn't damage the bottom of the car at all. I didn't think to check it, but I'm sure I heard some scraping noises."

Eric looked ready to kill us all, and even with the bond closed, I could feel how furious he was.

I rolled my eyes at him. "C'mon Eric, what does your famous bullshit detector tell you about this?"

After a few seconds of puzzled silence, he finally twigged. "You are both lying to me." He sounded relieved.

Frannie cracked up laughing then, amused to see her brother get the better of, quote, _that stupid old vamp that glamored me._

"You deserve it," Quinn huffed. "_Your bonded_ has bruises all over her neck and arms, but all you ask about is your car."

Eric finally looked at me properly, then slowly closed the small gap between us so he could examine my neck and arms. He seemed even more furious when he saw my injuries. "What happened?" he demanded. "Who did this?"

"A Were who was trying to kidnap Frannie with three of his friends," I explained. "You remember Frannie, she risked her life to warn us about the takeover? Too late unfortunately, but she tried. She's hurt much worse than I am."

I took Frannie's shoulders and guided her to stand right in front of Eric, so he was looking straight down at her battered face. He glanced at her quickly and shrugged, as though her injuries weren't his concern. I guess they weren't.

"No, you're hurt worse," she insisted. "It's just my bruises are mostly on my face and wrists, and yours are hidden. Plus, your ribs..."

"You are hurt in other places too?" Eric fumed.

I pulled up my t-shirt and showed him the bruises all over my abdomen.

"Your ribs are broken."

"Sure feels like it," I agreed.

"How did this happen?" He looked about ready to kill someone.

"She took on four big Were bikers by herself and came out of it with just the bruises and a couple broken ribs," Quinn beamed. "She was amazing. She teleported into New Orleans just as they took Frannie and hid on top of their van to see where they went. She used her gift to find out their plans and texted me the details. When I was still a few minutes away and they were about to hurt Frannie, she took down three of them by herself and the fourth had to shoot her with a tranq dart full of ketamine to stop her. He's the one who strangled her and then kicked her in the ribs while she was passed out."

"I will kill the cretin," Eric growled.

"Too late. Last I saw him, Quinn was using one of his arms as a toothpick," I shrugged. "I've never seen a tiger use a toothpick before."

Eric laughed. "I would like to see that. I am sorry I missed the action, lover. And I am glad you have become less squeamish about killing."

"I don't feel bad about rapists dying, especially when they've killed dozens themselves," I explained. "Good riddance, I say."

Eric nodded approvingly. Then he was staring right at my chest, looking less approving. "They hurt your breast also. One is now larger than the other... bruised and swollen, yes?"

_Trust Eric to notice anything any change to my boobs_, I thought to myself.

"Oh, no," I corrected, "that's just this." I reached down the top of my t-shirt - thankfully the neckline was low enough to make it easy to do that - then fished about in my bra, recovering the _nemaicside_ charm stone that was still tucked in there.

Eric stared at me in stunned silence.

"I don't usually keep stones in my bra, but this one's special." I held it in my hand, concentrated for a second, and disappeared.

Frannie reached out to where I was before, trying to find my arm but touching my belly instead. "That's how you went invisible?"

I reappeared and nodded. "It has to be in contact with my skin to work, and I needed my hands, so I figured that was the best spot for it."

"I know how a _nemaicside _charm stone works," Eric rolled his eyes as though it were obvious, "but lover, where did you get such a thing?"

"Oh, Niall left it for me. He left me a few things I could use to help defend myself."

Eric nodded, taking that all in. "They did manhandle you though, didn't they? I saw the bruise on your nipple as you retrieved the stone."

"No!" I snapped, thinking this was some stupid ploy to make me flash my boobs to prove they weren't bruised. Then I remembered my nipple was indeed bruised - both of them were - and started blushing bright red, as I remembered the wonderful things my boyfriend had done to them this morning. "Uh, no, that happened earlier," I whispered. I gave Quinn a shy smile, and he grinned back at me.

Eric looked furious, and I was fairly sure he was about to start ranting when Hunter walked in, drawing attention away from me for a moment.

"Doctor Frannie!" Hunter squealed, launching himself at her.

_Huh?_ I thought to myself, _DOCTOR Frannie?_

She easily caught my nephew, lifting him up in the air with almost the same ease her brother would so she could swing him around in a circle, then perched him on her hip. Evidently, she had enough shifter genes to be much stronger than a regular teenage girl. "You must be Hunter," she grinned at him. "I'll be your baby-sitter for a few days." She also clearly had a shifter's love of kids; she was beaming, just thinking of all the fun things they could do together.

"She does," Hunter confirmed. "She wants kids of her own already. Uncle John gets mad when she says so." He seemed puzzled by that, like it was somehow weird for Quinn to disapprove of his seventeen-year-old sister wanting to get pregnant.

Frannie looked at him in shock, wondering how he knew that.

I pressed my hand against hers and silently told her, _Hunter's the seer we told you about. And telepathic as well, so don't go thinking about sex around him_. I would never say what Hunter was out loud if I could help it, just in case someone overheard. My house was safe - Quinn found and removed the bugs Bill left as quickly as he could place them (except the one he 'missed' out in the yard, so he and James could feed misinformation through it) and Amelia kept us shielded from magical eavesdropping - but I wasn't taking any chances with Hunter's safety.

Frannie laughed at my comment, not at all surprised that I could speak silently in her head when I wanted to. Then she realized Hunter's visions were what saved her today. "Thank you," she murmured to him.

"Say thank you prop-ly," my nephew cheekily told her, "take me out for burgers. At Merlotte's. When Amelia gets home. And to the park tomorrow. To teach me soccer. And -"

"Amelia's not here?" I asked, alarmed. "She went to work and left you alone?" Boy, would she be getting chewed out when she got home tonight, leaving my not-yet-five year old nephew all alone in my house for the afternoon so she didn't have to miss work. I thought she'd at least have the sense to find a babysitter for him, but obviously -

"He was not alone," Eric corrected, interrupting my thoughts.

It took a few moments to work out what he was saying, but when I did... "YOU were his babysitter?" I couldn't keep the disapproval out of my voice. "She left my four-year-old nephew alone with a vampire? When she gets home tonight -"

"He is fine," Eric snapped. "I would not harm your kin. If it were not still light outside, I would be happy to leave now."

"We had fun," Hunter insisted. "We played race cars. And we talked about things. And I'm almost five."

I glared at Eric, furious he would make use of my nephew's 'gift' like that. "Oh, I bet he asked you all sorts of things," I growled.

"He didn't mean to hurt you," Hunter told me. "You can stop being mad at him, Aunt Sookie."

"Sometimes it takes adults a while to stop being mad," Quinn told him, affectionately ruffling his hair. "Especially for the things Eric did to her."

All the fight went out of Eric then. "I am sorry," was all he said. "I will always be sorry."

"Well, if I'm taking you out to dinner," Frannie changed the subject, "I'm gonna go patch this up," she gestured at her black eye. She put Hunter down, picked up the suitcase she'd brought with her, then rifled through it to find her makeup bag. She remembered where the bathroom was from when she was here during the takeover, so she went straight in to cover up her bruises. I wasn't sure how much good a bit of makeup would do in hiding them, but I figured she'd feel better for trying, at least.

Hunter swayed to and fro, waiting for us to have some conversation he'd already seen.

"Yeah yeah, your precious car stinks of smelly tiger," Quinn preempted Eric. "I'll buy you a new one, and get the same mods done."

I gasped and turned to him. "You'd buy him a new car? But the passenger seat smells like me, doesn't it? Why not just clean it?"

"You even soaked a few drops of blood into that seat," my boyfriend grinned, "but he'll still be an ass about this. He'll insist the cleaners missed a spot, and after the third time they've cleaned it he'll suggest replacing the driver's seat, and after that's done he'll complain that my head brushed against the ceiling and the gear stick stinks of shifter hand, and after they're done the whole inside panel of the door and all the carpets will have to go, and then it still won't be good enough... better to buy him a new one, so we can skip right to the part where he complains that some other smelly person drove it onto the cargo ship and demands another."

I turned to Eric to ask if he'd really be that much of a pain, but he spoke first.

"You spend too much time around vampires," my ex smiled. "A new car will do, but I am keeping the old one as well."

"I wouldn't expect anything less," my boyfriend rolled his eyes, knowing Eric would sell one of them and keep the money - most likely, the new one that was worth more - so he was effectively giving Eric a hundred grand for a day's car hire. He didn't care; it was worth every cent to keep his sister safe.

"And I will have the mods done," Eric insisted. "You can pay me for them."

"Fine, but you can show me the car with them done, and I'll reimburse you. I'm not just giving you a check for fifty grand."

Eric tried not to show any expression, but I could tell he wasn't happy about that. Perhaps having the car modified to vampire specs decreased its value, so he wasn't going to come out of this with as much cash after all.

"I need to sit down," I realized, suddenly feeling dizzy. I limped into my living room towards the couch. My hip was sore because it took most of the force when I landed on the roof of the van, so it moved stiffly and hurt when I put my weight on that leg. I was so glad to sink into my seat, and after a few moments, the dizziness subsided.

Quinn came and sat down next to me, kissed my cheek and wrapped his arm around me, then pulled me in close to him. "Sit down, Eric," he commanded. "We need to talk."

Eric crossed his arms and pointedly didn't sit down, but he did move so he was standing where we could both see him. Hunter followed after him, pulling at his arm so the vampire would hold his hand. Then he dragged Eric to a lounge chair, gave him a small push to tell him to sit... and to my surprise, he did. Hunter climbed into his lap.

"Hunter, come over here, honey," I asked, not sure I trusted Eric with him.

"No," he crossed his arms. "He won't hurt me. He'll be my Dad, too. You'll see."

I thought about arguing with him, then realized there were far more important things to discuss, just as Quinn started discussing them.

"What I'm wondering," Quinn glared at Eric, "is how you managed to miss that de Castro's head of security had organized to kidnap my sister today?" There was an unspoken part of the question: _when you watched so many hours of his security videos last night_.

"Nobody spoke of kidnapping your sister," Eric shot back. "If they had, I would have mentioned it. Neither Pam nor I knew."

"Pam was in your office last night," I murmured, "when I called you." I had hung up on him, thinking it was some fang-banger humphing in the background when he offered to come and visit me. I almost felt bad about that, now.

"Yes, she stayed late to help me," he confirmed, then turned his attention to Quinn again. "Ferdinand is in New Orleans right now, so the plan must have changed after the Weres got there. Felipe sent the bikers to New Orleans today to retrieve a package, not a person. That is what he said, a package that was missing from one of his brothels." He was very confident we wouldn't be overheard, I noticed.

Quinn stared at him in disbelief, then burst out laughing. "Man, haven't you watched TV or seen a movie in the last fifty years?"

Eric just looked puzzled, ignoring the way Hunter was tangling his hair.

"You know, cops and robbers... whoever they're kidnapping is referred to as 'the package'... I didn't know anyone actually said that."

"Ah." There was a look of realization on my ex's face, then he broke into a smile. "It is just like Felipe to adopt TV show slang."

"He's almost got the evil super-villain laugh down, now," Quinn added. "I heard him practicing while I was in his palace."

Eric chuckled for a moment, then turned serious. "If I see anything about your family in the videos, I will inform you, like I did about your mother," he promised. "I know how Felipe uses the ones you love to get to you." He glanced at me as he said it, and I wondered what he meant. He kept me in the dark about so many things.

"That's what this is about, isn't it?" I asked all three males. "He tried to take Quinn's sister again, to get leverage over him for something."

"For you," Eric told me. "There was a conversation between Felipe and Ferdinand about trading the package for someone they referred to as 'her'... now I know 'the package' is Quinn's sister, I expect it is you they wished to trade her for. They know that taking you will be difficult while your tiger is here guarding you; he hasn't slipped up and left you unattended yet." There was a note of approval in his voice as he said it: I knew he didn't much like my boyfriend, but he seemed to respect his ability to keep me safe, now.

I nodded, thinking through their plan. "So the Weres were meant to kidnap Frannie, beat her up and rape her, then Felipe would show her to John and say that if he doesn't hand me over, she's going into one of his brothels. So it's my fault they tried to do this to her." For a moment I wondered if I should discuss it in front of Hunter, but he had already seen everything that was going to happen...

"No!" Frannie exclaimed. She'd come back in at some point, but I hadn't noticed. "No, you saved me. Why do they want you, anyway?"

I almost did a double-take when I saw her: apart from one eye being partly closed by swelling, there was literally no sign of what she'd been through today: her bruises were so well hidden, it was like they weren't there. Even her split lip (which was already part-healed, thanks to her being half-shifter and having some of the enhanced healing that came with that) was almost invisible beneath her lip gloss, and she'd done something tricky with blusher and bronzer that hid how swollen one side of her face was. It was obvious that she had makeup on, but she looked like a typical teenage girl wearing a little too much, not someone hiding a beating. I briefly wondered how she'd learned to cover up bruises so expertly, then remembered some of the things I'd caught in Quinn's thoughts while Angela Barclay interviewed us to see if we'd be good foster parents. Their Mom lashed out at Frannie sometimes, when she was having one of her episodes.

I gestured for Frannie to come and share the couch with John and I, then took her hand and silently told her about the breeding scheme. I wouldn't risk saying that aloud: if anyone found out Eric had warned me, he would be killed for high treason.

Eric was watching with great interest; I had basically just confirmed that I could now project my own thoughts, as well as hear others'.

"Ohmigod!" she clapped her hand over her mouth as I told her Felipe's plans. "That's so awful. You can't hand her over to them," she ordered her brother, "not even if they have me."

I had an entirely different idea. "I say we don't let them get their hands on you, to be able to trade for me."

"That would be wise," Eric confirmed. "She is staying here, where you can protect her, until this is over?" He looked to Quinn for confirmation.

"She's safe at school," Quinn informed him. "That's why they had to lure her to New Orleans to be able to get to her."

I shook my head at him. "John, if she's up north and the King's trying to kidnap her, I'm going to be worried all the time. They only need to get to one person at that school to take her. I agree with Eric, I want her right here where we know she's OK 'til this is dealt with."

Frannie still hadn't let go of my hand, and now she was squeezing it tight, hoping that even if her brother wouldn't let her stay for her own sake, he'd let her stay to stop me from worrying.

"It's not like that, sweetie," I turned to comfort her. "He wants you in school so you get the chances he didn't have, to get clear of the shifter world altogether. He doesn't want your life to be as violent and dangerous as his has been, that's why he keeps sending you away."

"But that's not what I want," she burst into tears. "I don't wanna go back there. I like shifters, they're the only ones who understand me."

"You can stay 'til this is over," Quinn decided on the spot, to stop his sister crying. He hated seeing women cry.

"Thank you." She let go of my hand to reach over and squeeze his. "I promise I'll behave, I won't make any trouble for you, I'll be so good."

He didn't believe her - she made trouble for him even when she was trying not to, I 'heard' - but he didn't say anything.

"So that is settled," Eric concluded. "We will keep Felipe from taking your sister again by keeping her here under your protection."

Quinn nodded.

Their uneasy alliance was holding so far; I was glad to see that Eric was treating protecting Quinn's family as something that concerned him (so Felipe couldn't use them to blackmail him into handing me over), and that Quinn was listening to Eric's advice. Sadly, after my time with those wretched fairies, I felt like I needed all the protection I could get. I could suddenly see how some of the weird stuff in Hunter's visions might happen: if they were both working to keep me safe, I knew I'd occasionally feel like thanking Eric in a more physical way, and my boyfriend did have a thing for threesomes...

"Our Mom had something to do with this," Frannie informed us. "She said she was going to meet me in New Orleans, that's why I was there."

"She's in debt to de Castro again," Quinn apologized wearily. "She got it in her head that Sookie was keeping me prisoner, so she came here to try and free me. It -"

"Mom came here?" Frannie interrupted.

I nodded. "A couple of weeks ago."

"We met her at the airport in Shreveport and sent her back to Whispering Palms. Amelia and Hunter helped us figure out where she was and intercept her, so she didn't make it here to hurt Sookie," Quinn explained.

"I'm real sorry our Mom came here to harm you," Frannie apologized, sounding just as weary as her brother. They'd both spent a lot of their lives cleaning up after their mother.

"Not your fault," I refused her apology.

"de Castro's the one who helped her get here," Quinn told me. "That's what Eric came to tell me this morning." He was too upset to go on.

"Felipe had someone convince Mrs. Quinn that you were keeping her son prisoner," Eric filled in, "then offered to help her free him. He arranged her escape, her flights to Shreveport, and for someone to bring her here. They called Bill just before sunrise to tell him to come here too, to warn you that Mrs. Quinn was coming and get you to stay inside the house where Amelia's wards would protect you. He was meant to arm you with a gun full of silver and convince you to shoot his mother so Quinn would turn against you. Her visit was meant to show weakness in the security I provide for you, so Bill could take you to Nevada for protection in Felipe's palace. But Bill was not answering his phone that morning as he was busy with his woman, so in the end it only demonstrated the weakness of their spy." Eric got a great kick out of that, I could see. "You were clever to foil their plans, lover. Quinn told me the plan you orchestrated; how you worked with your friends to win a battle none of you could win alone. I was impressed with your strategy, choosing the right battleground to play to your strengths and separating your opponent from her supporters."

"She did the same thing today," Quinn smiled. "She arranged it so she fought the four Weres in an abandoned warehouse rather than Sophie-Ann's old compound, and delayed them so I was only a few minutes behind. Evened up the odds, which is why we won."

"Smart," Eric concluded. "Lover, many who consider themselves great warriors do not think to pick the battleground, they simply take the fight wherever it finds them. Sigebert and Wybert, for a start. You have done well to learn this so quickly. I am sorry that when you called to share your tale with me, that filthy blood bag waitress was so rude to you. I would have enjoyed hearing this earlier."

Hearing them both praise me so highly was a sweet moment, right up until Frannie started speaking.

"Why does he call you 'lover' all the time?" she asked. "You're not having an affair with -"

"No!" I exclaimed. "No, absolutely not. I wouldn't do that to your brother!"

She nodded. "I didn't think so. So it's just some male ego thing, 'look at me, I fucked the telepathic fairy'," she mocked.

"Basically," I laughed, "he seems to mean it affectionately, though."

"You are my lover," Eric defended himself. "You are the one that I, uh..." He seemed to be searching for the right word.

"Had sex with?" Quinn finished. "I think everyone's got the point already."

Eric looked puzzled for a long moment. "This word now means, someone you are fucking?"

I nodded. "Usually someone who's not your spouse."

"Ah. So saying this is disrespectful? I have accused you of adultery and announced our relationship to people who need not know."

I just shrugged. "As far as disrespectful vampire crap goes, it's not that bad."

He looked like he was going to say something else, but the sound of a car in the driveway interrupted him. In under a second, both Quinn and Eric were at the front door, crashing into each other as they both went to look through the special peep-hole James had installed. How Eric had got Hunter off his lap so quickly, I wasn't sure, but my nephew looked comfortable enough in the chair they'd both been sitting in.

"Amelia," the two men announced in unison, which made Frannie, Hunter and I all laugh.

I was the first to stop laughing. "Ow," I whimpered as my ribs protested being moved so much, and I was suddenly gasping to get air back into my lungs.

Frannie headed to the back door to greet Amelia, while two huge, supernaturally strong predators started fussing over my injuries. They had both developed a sudden interest in listening to my broken ribs, resulting in a literal head-on collision as they each tried to stick their ear against my chest at the same time. I could 'hear' that Quinn thought my breathing sounded different, and was worried.

"Guys, I'm fine," I insisted. "It's just a couple broken ribs. Stop it, already."

"Just let me listen for a moment?" Quinn asked gently, moving his ear to my chest as Eric backed off. "Breath deeply, please?"

I did as he asked, even though it really hurt.

"Now, say 'ahhh'," he instructed me, and I did. "You hear that, too?" my boyfriend asked my ex.

Eric gestured for him to move, then stuck his own head next to my chest. I repeated the same routine, breathing deeply for a few breaths, then saying 'ahhh'. As he did, Quinn picked up my hand and checked my pulse by feeling my wrist. When Amelia and Frannie came in chatting - they had been fast friends since the picnic, and Frannie was telling Amelia all about today - he immediately hushed them.

Eric nodded to Quinn, confirming whatever they both suspected.

"OK, you guys are freaking me out," I warned them.

"Pneumothorax," Frannie whispered, sounding half-horrified, half-fascinated.

Quinn nodded, then turned back to me. "Sookie, I think your broken ribs have torn your lung, and there's air escaping into your chest cavity. It sounds like your lung's starting to collapse, which is bad. You're short of breath, right?"

"Yeah, but that's because it hurts to breathe too deeply. I'm fine, really," I protested. Hunter didn't look at all worried about me, so I figured whatever was going on, it would all work out OK.

"Your pulse is way up, and you were gasping for air when you laughed before. That isn't a good sign. Have you felt dizzy at all?"

"Only when I was standing up before."

"I'm sorry I didn't spot this earlier," he apologized, "we were in such a hurry to get back here that I only gave you a quick look over."

"Not your fault," I shook my head.

"Pneumothorax can take a while to develop," Frannie told him. "Your lung hadn't started collapsing yet when we left New Orleans."

Quinn gave her a look that said 'shut up', and this time she did. He sat down beside me and took my hand. "Babe, we need to do something about this; a collapsed lung can kill you. There's still time, but we need to either take you to hospital or get Dr. Ludwig here to see you. I'd prefer Dr. Ludwig, because I've tried to keep your involvement today quiet so word doesn't get out yet about your new fairy powers. The guys who helped me with the cleanup won't say anything; they'd much rather tell people I took out those four Weres than admit a hundred-thirty pound woman did what their Packmaster and two of his strongest guys were too scared to try, while they waited around for backup. But if you're in hospital for a few days with a collapsed lung, it'll get out that you were in a fight, and the Vegas Weres' story about Frannie's fairy godmother beating them up will start to sound credible. So, can I call Dr. Ludwig for you?"

I was about to nod, when Frannie interrupted. "Dr. Ludwig will treat it with vampire blood," she told her brother, then looked at Eric.

"I will heal you if you wish it, lov-, uh, Sookie," Eric offered, trying to hide his excitement over me possibly sucking his blood.

Five sets of eyes stared at me, all waiting for my answer, but I wasn't sure what to say. I was still taking it all in: My lung was collapsing. I had to get medical treatment or I might die. The most effective treatment was vampire blood. There was a thousand-year-old vamp right here, offering me his blood. It probably should've been a no-brainer, but it wasn't.

I could be healed almost instantly, but risk further strengthening the dratted blood bond... or have Dr. Ludwig give me the blood of another vampire (ew!)... or go to hospital and risk Felipe finding out what I did today, which would tell him all about my new powers.

I weighed up my options, trying to ignore the dizzy, out-of-breath feeling that was getting worse by the moment.


	48. Suck

"Let's go have dinner," Hunter demanded. "Leave them alone. They'll work it out. Aunt Sookie will be fine. You'll see."

Eric, Quinn and I exchanged glances; we all seemed to be wondering what my nephew was up to. I was worried about my collapsing lung - it had been torn by the broken ribs I got, fighting a gang of Were bikers to save Frannie - but Hunter just wanted to go eat.

Frannie looked like she might argue, but then realized what was going on. "Sure, I'll get my purse," she agreed. "Come have burgers with us at Merlotte's?" she turned to Amelia.

"Sounds great," my roomie agreed. "I'm starving. You drive, so I can have a few beers." She tossed Frannie her car keys and headed for the door. She wouldn't usually go out in her work clothes, but she figured that if I had to take vampire blood to fix a collapsed lung, I'd want privacy.

Frannie beamed at being trusted to drive someone else's car, shooting Quinn a triumphant look because apparently he rarely let her drive any of his. I saw the contents of the garage at his place in Memphis in her mind and was shocked; I hadn't realized he had so many. Or that he had such a thing for sports cars. Or that he'd even fit in a sports car, although he had been OK in Eric's Corvette today, once he'd moved the seat back as far as it would go...

Frannie took Hunter's hand, said, "Let's get some shoes on you, cub," and let him lead her back to his room to find some, while I woozily wondered about my boyfriend's car collection.

Hunter came back into the living room for only a moment, looked right at Eric and told him, "Put it back," then walked out again.

I was too distracted to wonder what he was talking about.

Less than two minutes after Hunter floated the idea, he, Amelia and Frannie were walking out the back door, while Eric, Quinn and I sat in silence in my lounge room. I wished I was going with them because I hadn't eaten all day, but here I was.

"What do you think I should do?" I asked Quinn as they walked out. "The hospital won't give me vampire blood, at least. Although it'll take me quite a few days to heal naturally, won't it?"

"Weeks at least, for the broken ribs. Dr. Ludwig could give you the blood of someone who's gone to their final death," he added, "so they won't be able to track you or sense your feelings. Or there's the devil you know."

"I am not a devil," Eric groused. "I do not even work for one." He gave Quinn an especially pointed look.

"Which might strengthen the blood bond," I muttered at the same time, then turned to Eric. "It's just an expression."

"It's already about as strong as I've ever heard of blood bonds getting," Quinn told me. "So there's not much more that can happen, there."

"And if you wish to keep what happened quiet," Eric added, "my blood will make you look fine in an hour or so, and you need only avoid Bill that long to keep your injuries secret."

I nodded, thinking it all through. Did I want to take more of Eric's blood? I felt dizzy even sitting down now and it was getting hard to breathe, so I wasn't sure I had much time left to decide what treatment I wanted... plus my mouth was already watering for him.

"Are we going to be OK if I do this?" I asked Quinn. "You know vampire blood has certain, um, effects..."

"I know," my boyfriend confirmed. "If you'd rather get Dr. Ludwig out, I'll call her right now and see how long she'll be. It won't be fun watching you gasp for breath 'til she gets here, and I might have to make a hole between your ribs to let the air out before then. Frannie's probably right that the doctor will give you vampire blood anyway, and then tell us off for wasting her time, calling her out when you could've taken blood from any of the vamps in your fan club. James would probably give you some of his when he wakes, if you'd prefer?"

"No way am I biting Amelia's boyfriend!" I disagreed. "I'm pretty sure that sucking your roommate's honey's blood is not OK."

Quinn chuckled. "Yeah, you're probably right. Bill then?" he joked, teasing me.

Eric and I both glared at him.

"I'll take that as a no," he grinned, then turned serious again. "The human hospital is still an option, if you want to do this the slow way?"

"We won't be able to keep what I did today a secret, if I turn up in hospital with broken ribs the same day Frannie was kidnapped." I was leaning more and more in favor of taking Eric's blood again, although I was still worried by what would happen if I did.

Quinn turned my face towards his, then leaned over and planted the most delicious kiss on my lips, to show me just how much he loved me. "I hate to say this," he confessed, "but his blood is your best option right now. If you decide to do this, we'll be OK, I promise."

I nodded and thought about it a few seconds more, then whispered, "OK."

My boyfriend kissed me again, and I kissed him back with all the passion I could muster, making sure he knew it was he who I wanted most (even if my mouth was currently watering at the thought of tasting a certain someone else again). Then he stood up quietly.

"I'm not mad at you for doing this, but I don't think I can stay here and watch," he apologized. "I'll be right outside and if you call out to me, I can be here in under a second." He turned to Eric then. "If she tells you to stop, you'd better," was all he said before he left.

Then Eric and I were alone in my living room, staring at each other.

He smiled at me, then stood up from his chair. "The knife is still in your bedroom?" he asked.

I nodded, feeling my cheeks turn crimson as I realized I still kept the knife we'd used for our last few blood exchanges beside my bed. (In the top drawer of my nightstand where I wasn't seeing it all the time, but still...)

He was back with it an instant later, sitting down beside me. "You will need a lot of blood to heal you," he insisted. "I think your broken ribs have damaged your diaphragm as well as your lung. These are serious injuries, love."

I nodded again, trying to damp my body's reactions. The first couple of times he gave me his blood, I found it so gross... but after a while, I started to like his taste, and the way his blood made me feel, and the pleasure of sucking it from his cool, hard body...

He took the knife and cut his wrist deeply, opening up a couple of inches of artery for me. As blood began spurting from the wound, my mouth latched on, wanting to catch every drop. I couldn't stifled a long, low, "Mmmmmm," as it hit my tongue, the taste intoxicating me. I gulped it down eagerly, swallowing a big mouthful as fast as I could.

As his blood started working its way through my body, I knew I had made a big mistake.

Lust sizzled through my veins, replacing every hint of worry with aching desire. It was like I was seeing him clearly for the first time in weeks, and I wanted him so much it hurt. How had I failed to notice how hot he is? How had I forgotten how great in bed he is? I couldn't believe I had ever let him go. I didn't care that I was mortally wounded any more; I just wanted him inside me, claiming my body as my injuries claimed my life.

I sucked hard on his wrist, taking all I could. I was staring into his eyes and moaning for him, hoping he would see the lust written all over my face and hear the desperation in my inarticulate sounds. I wanted him to tear all my clothes away and take me, but he didn't.

With his wrist wedged in my mouth, I couldn't beg him to fuck me, so I pushed all the lust I was feeling through our bond instead, certain that once he felt that, he would do something about it.

He leaned in towards me then, but disappointingly all he did was whisper in my ear.

"I heard you this morning," he rasped so quietly I could barely hear him. "Your screams of pleasure... your sweet voice begging... your moans and sighs... exquisite." His voice had taken on a dreamy quality, and he was nibbling on my ear lobe as he spoke. "I felt you push your orgasms through our bond to share with me... were you trying to arouse me, my love? You drove me half-mad, trapped beneath your floorboards... hearing and feeling you in that state, and not able to go to you... I have not wanted anyone that much in centuries."

There was none of the anger I expected in his voice, only wonder. He seemed impressed that I could cause that reaction in him, and I briefly remembered the way ennui (Word of the Day last week) set in amongst very old vampires, 'til eventually they felt nothing at all, even as they chose to meet the sun. Perhaps feeling anything intensely was exciting and novel to him, now?

As he whispered in my ear I sucked even harder, loving the agonizing need his blood was creating in me. Sure, it hurt to want him this much... but when I imagined how the satisfaction of all this desire would feel, I was willing to take any amount of pain. He pulled back to look at me then, and I could see the same overpowering lust in his eyes as I was sure showed in mine. We just stared at each other for a long moment, him watching me gulp at his wrist, while I watched his reaction to my mouth on his skin and his blood all through my body.

Then, little by little, I began to feel the need that shone in his eyes, echoing what I felt myself. My eyes went wide when I realized what was happening: our bond was opening again! I sighed in relief to finally feel him through it. There are no words for the pain a dead blood bond causes; like grief, but far more intense because that other person is literally a part of you; a part of your soul. I felt him fighting to keep it closed, but there was no way I would let him do that. I used all my fairy magic to push it open again, and just like that, it was.

The feelings that flooded into my mind were unexpectedly shocking. Even the lust he felt for me was a thousand times more intense than I expected. Feeling it, I wondered how he could resist taking me right that second, when I was so obviously aroused for him. But it wasn't only lust he felt for me; there were soft, tender feelings there as well; feelings I had never been sure a vampire could feel until that moment. He needed me, this beautiful undead creature; needed those things I expected only us weak mortals to need, like the sweet intimacy of my embrace and the comforting sound of me whispering my love for him. But above all, he needed me to heal him.

The pain of my own injuries paled to insignificance as I felt the agony that flooded through the bond. Something terrible had happened to my bonded; something that tore flesh from his bones and screams from his beautiful mouth; something that even a vampire would take months to heal from. He wasn't healing, though, because he wasn't eating. I could feel the ache of starvation all through his belly; the pain of a gut that had collapsed in on its own emptiness. I reached out to stroke his waist, and sure enough, it curved in where it had previously been flat, showing me just how dire his situation was. He hungered for me, but he wouldn't take my blood unless it was freely given.

I bit into his wrist to keep him bleeding, holding it to my mouth with one hand as I smoothed my hair from my neck with the other. He stared at me, fangs down, pupils fully dilated, sucking in deep, unnecessary breaths to smell my arousal. I leaned in to offer myself to him, but even starving as he was, he stopped to kiss and lick the throbbing vein, gently preparing me for his bite. Finally, he turned me so my back was pressed to his side, wrapping his cool arm around me as his fangs penetrated my neck. Something in his pocket dug into my backside but I didn't mind; all that mattered was giving him my blood as he gave me his.

I moaned against his wrist again, loving the slight pain as he slowly slid into my skin, the delicious feeling of him sucking on my neck, and the way our bond snapped tight and strengthened as we filled each other. A blood exchange is the greatest pleasure a bond can provide. The feel of my blood filling him as his filled me was a joy I could scarcely begin to describe. My blood nourished him, plumping back out his sunken veins, making his long-dead organs hum with life, and in barely an instant, making him painfully aroused.

I swooned against him, dizzy with joy at being able to offer him healing, just as he was offering me. I could feel my blood all through him, just as I felt his blood all through me, and it was indescribably right. He was drawing deeply on my neck now, taking what he needed to ease the ache in his gut, and I was beyond happiness at being able to help him. His own wrist had finally closed and he was easing it away from me, using both arms to hold me against him. I sighed with happiness, noticing that this time, he hadn't lewdly humped my back, but instead held me tenderly as we took each other's blood.

I went to whisper his name, but at the last instant a growling sound caught my attention and I abruptly looked up.

Quinn.

The man I intended to spend the rest of my life with, to marry and have father my children. The man I had planned to give myself to tonight, by having him mark me as his mate. He had trusted me enough to let me take Eric's blood to heal myself, and here I was, betraying that trust.

My boyfriend was standing in the living room again, staring at us with murder in his eyes as Eric obliviously kept suckling from my neck.


	49. Break

"Classy," Quinn sneered, and his icy stare was like a knife in my chest. "_Your bonded_ is dying of a collapsed lung, so you grab a snack while you still can."

I realized he was mad at Eric rather than me then, because he hated vampires enough to blame them for almost anything, but instead of feeling relieved I felt confused. I knew I should be ashamed of what I'd just done, offering my ex my neck like some common blood whore, but I couldn't manage to muster even the slightest guilt. Was it because he was so horribly injured? Quinn and I had agreed that if Eric ever needed my blood to heal a major injury, I could give him some as a thank you for all the times he had saved my life (and to make it worth his while to keep protecting me now that I was with someone else...). But that wasn't it at all.

"She has had enough of my blood to heal," Eric shrugged, licking the wounds on my neck clean. "She will live."

His tongue didn't feel sexy against my skin any more, and the bond was still open enough that I could feel he was going to leave the marks there instead of healing them, just to piss my boyfriend off even more.

"But you're hurt," I spluttered, turning around to face Eric. "You were in so much pain, that's why..." I looked back at my boyfriend. "You said if he was badly hurt, I could give him blood to help him heal, and I could feel through the bond that he's injured and starving."

I could feel Eric's shock and almost turned to look at him, but then the bond was suddenly closed again, like a slap in my face.

"Does he look hurt to you, Sookie?" Quinn glowered, convinced that my ex had somehow tricked me.

I turned to face Eric, who was leaning back on my couch with a cushion covering his crotch, licking my blood from his lips as he smirked at my boyfriend. He didn't look hurt or starving; he looked strong, rosy, smug, self-satisfied...

"Oh," I clapped my hand over my mouth. "Oh, I'm so stupid." I knew how opportunistic Eric was, and yet...

I scrambled off the couch to get away from him, wanting to run back to my boyfriend but not sure he would have me, after what I just did. But when I tried to stand up, I didn't quite make it; dizziness brought me back down to earth before I could even make it halfway. Thankfully, warm arms caught me just before I could hit the floor, scooping me back up and holding me to him. My boyfriend was so worried about me, it hurt.

"It's not my lung," I reassured him, "that's healing now. I just haven't eaten today."

I'd missed breakfast and lunch, and it was now dinner time. It had been a big day: I'd had marathon sex that morning; used my fairy powers extensively, fought two Weres and then been drugged that afternoon; and almost died of a puncture lung this evening. Unsurprisingly, after all that I was ravenous. Even a big dose of vampire blood couldn't fix hunger, I noticed.

Quinn moved me back just far enough to look me in the eye. "Sookie, you're the one who's injured and starving, not him."

I glanced over to Eric, who wasn't exactly disagreeing with my boyfriend's assessment of things. "I-it felt like... through the bond..." I couldn't explain what had just happened: what I thought I had felt; why I did what I did; why I didn't feel at all ashamed of what I'd just done... The bond was closed again, and without it messing with my feelings, I knew I'd just done something phenomenally dumb.

"He used the bond to manipulate you again," Quinn fumed. "That's not gonna happen any more."

I stared up at him, wondering what he meant.

He was trying to think of a way to phrase something so it didn't sound like an ultimatum, even though it basically was. I listened in to find out what, and 'heard' that he wanted me to learn to close my end of the blood bond just like Eric could close his, so my ex couldn't mess with me any more. He worked with someone whose job was to teach people how to handle being blood bonded, and he knew he could convince her to come and help me. He felt like it would be hard for us to be together if I let Eric keep messing with me whenever he felt like it.

"OK," I agreed, then silently added, _I'll do everything I can to close my end of the bond, I'm sick of this too._

"Thank you," Quinn praised me, squashing me against his chest possessively.

"Ow," I complained. "My ribs still hurt."

"Oh," he let me go. "Sorry." He gently lifted my t-shirt to check how they were healing, muttering, "Oh, shit," as soon as he saw them.

I went to ask him what was wrong, but just as I opened my mouth, he swiftly, unexpectedly hit my chest and I screamed instead. Sharp pain tore through my side again, and I couldn't help but think this was the pain I'd been spared, because I was unconscious when my ribs were broken. Then he did something gentler - but still very painful - and I realized he was lining up the ends of the fractures so my ribs would heal back to their original shape. Once he was happy with them, he ran his hand along my side one last time, so tenderly I could feel how much he hated hurting me, then held me gently until my agonized sobs subsided.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," he whispered into my hair, trying to silently tell me what he'd had to do.

I already knew, though: Eric had been too preoccupied to set my broken ribs as he gave me his blood, and they were fast healing into weird shapes; shapes that would leave my ribcage painfully deformed for the rest of my life. The second he realized what was happening, Quinn re-broke my ribs and lined them up to set properly. He ran his fingers over them one more time, and I 'heard' that they had already begun knitting together again; they would be good-as-new in maybe half an hour, with the help of Eric's ancient blood.

I looked over at my ex, and he did actually seem sheepish for once: clearly, he knew he should've set the bones properly himself.

Then I finally realized why I wasn't feeling at all ashamed of myself, and before I could think better of it, I'd already slapped Quinn, hard. "This is your fault, too," I accused.

He recoiled in shock, then retorted, "Right, I'm the reason Eric just tricked you into letting him bite you, instead of setting your ribs."

I poked a single finger against his arm so I could project to him, then reminded him what he'd done that morning, biting my neck and ordering me not to feel ashamed of anything I wanted. Apparently the effects of it still hadn't worn off, so my natural sense of it being wrong for anyone but my boyfriend to touch me just wasn't working. All Eric had to do was get some blood into me, and...

"Oh, sorry," Quinn murmured. "I didn't think that'd last for this long. I'll have to..."

I didn't hear him finish, because my legs turned to jelly and all my senses faded out as he spoke. I felt my knees start to buckle and next thing I knew, I was in the chair farthest from Eric's with my boyfriend's big warm hand wrapped around mine, making me hold onto something cold. He pressed the glass to my lips and I took a timid sip. Orange juice. I felt better immediately and started gulping down the rest, feeling more alert as the sugar in it went straight to my bloodstream.

"Thanks," I smiled at him as soon as I finished my drink. "I really needed that."

"Food is clearly not all you need, _lover_," Eric smirked. "Is your mutt not taking care of you? I can show him how to satisfy you, if you wish?"

Quinn rolled his eyes, thought of what I'd told him on the drive home, and started laughing at my ex. "I hear this isn't the first time you had to use your blood to get her interested in you again. Has she ever wanted you when she wasn't high on V, Eric? Wanted the real you?"

Eric looked from him to me, and I could swear that for a second, he looked hurt - but with the bond closed, there was no way to be sure.

I could see him form a barbed retort, so just before he could speak again, I snapped, "Go home, Eric. It's dark enough now, right?"

Eric stood unhappily, and I could feel him probing the bond to find out if I really said it was only the effects of his blood that made me want him. For a moment, I pushed everything I'd ever felt for him through the bond, letting him know how deeply I had loved him, and how hard it was to stop loving him, no matter what he did. I wasn't sure what I hoped for in response - perhaps falling to his knees in front of me to declare his own undying love - but his smug strut out of my living room wasn't it.

Then I noticed he was keeping one hand over his jeans pocket, trying to hide whatever had dug into my backside when he fed on me before.

"Wait!" I yelled, and he stopped.

"Is there something more I can help you with, _lover?_" he purred the word obscenely. "Something else you need of me?"

"What's that in your pocket?"

"You mean, is that a weapon in my pocket, or am I pleased to see you?" he was giving me a look full of eroticism and menace. "I can assure you, my _lover_, the answer is both." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and I almost laughed.

Quinn groaned aloud though. After seeing what The Creep was trying to do to his sister when he arrived at the warehouse that afternoon, he wasn't in the mood for penis-as-weapon jokes. He thought any man who would describe his cock that way really wasn't using it right.

I turned to look at him, realizing he was right: that whole metaphor was only true if you were doing it wrong. I knew most men weren't capable of that - it was a major turn-off for anyone normal when their partner was clearly hating their attentions - but those few who got excited about hurting people gave the whole male half of the species a bad name. I suddenly agreed with my mate, that making jokes about things only a sick twisted few actually did wasn't all that funny, considering how much suffering those few creeps inflicted.

Then I turned back to Eric, growling, "Hand it over." I figured whatever Hunter told him to put back, this was probably it.

He didn't seem to want to, but he reached into his pocket anyway. "It is just a little something I -"

When I saw what he retrieved, I gasped in horror.

"You didn't," I mumbled, as he pulled the leather-bound ring box out. Tears of betrayal stung my eyes. "How could you take that from me?"

"You know what this is?" Eric asked me, stunned.

"It's the ring John bought for me," I sobbed. "You're trying to steal my engagement ring." I couldn't believe he'd do such a thing.

"But it is not yet yours," my ex protested. "If he had given it to you, you would be wearing it. I am taking this from your mutt, not you, and he had no right to buy such a thing for _my bonded_ in the first place. To show such disrespect... I should punish him severely."

I couldn't stop crying long enough to say anything, but I held out my hand for the tiny box. I glared at him as I waited for him to give it back.

"You will stop weeping if I give this to you?" he finally asked.

"I'll try," I offered, and with a sigh, he handed it over. I opened the box, looked at the ring inside with my own eyes for the first time, and felt my heart lift and my mouth curl into a big grin. I bit my lip and looked up at my boyfriend, feeling the joy my delighted look was bringing him.

He knelt down at my feet and cradled my happy, tear-stained face in his huge hands, murmuring, "God, I love you," as he moved in to kiss me. For a few long moments, our mouths melded, and I could feel his love pouring into my mind. My heart felt like it would swell to bursting.

"My tiger," I beamed. Then I shyly asked, "I know you haven't found the right moment to ask yet, but can I hold onto this anyway?" I snapped the box shut and held it against my heart, never wanting to let it go.

"Sure," he grinned, kissing me again. He was thrilled that I liked the ring so much, and even more so that he didn't have to worry whether I'd accept it, when he found the right moment to propose to me.

"Mmmm, I love you so much." I was nibbling his lip and gazing into his eyes, basking in the warmth of being with him.

From the corner of my eye, I saw movement. When I glanced over, Eric was trying to creep away quietly, his face twisted in agony. When he knew he was being watched, he kept up his usual swagger, but when he thought no-one was looking it really did seem that something was wrong with him. I turned my face towards him, and sure enough, he started strutting out proudly.

"How could you do this to me, Eric?" I demanded. "How could you take this away from me?"

Eric stared at me in confusion. "You are angry because I took a betrothal ring that is not yet yours? That can never be yours?"

I felt all the air leave my chest, even more than it had when my lung was torn. "You're going to stand in the way of our marriage?"

"We are bonded and pledged," Eric reminded me. "You are my wife. You cannot marry anyone else."

"You'd really do this," I wept. "You'd take away my only chance to be married and have a life with someone, just so -"

"You are already married," he fumed. "You are MY WIFE. Nobody else's."

I was about to shout back, when Quinn interjected calmly instead, standing up to face him.

"Eric, did you ever propose to her?" he asked, not waiting for an answer. "Did you ever buy her a ring? Ask what kind of wedding she wanted? Hold a ceremony? An actual ceremony, not just a pretend one only you and Pam say happened? Did you ever discuss what being married meant to you both? Talk about where you'd live, how many kids you'd have, what she would expect from you and what you would expect from her? Did you ever offer yourself to her and find out if she wanted you?"

Eric didn't bother answering, but all three of us knew that the answer to all those questions was 'no'.

"That's why she won't acknowledge your 'marriage'," Quinn concluded. "She's never been married. Nobody's ever proposed to her; she's never had a wedding ceremony; and you haven't exactly met her standards as a husband. So no, she doesn't think she's your wife."

I stopped crying just long enough to look at my ex and beg, "Please don't take this away from me, Eric. This is my only chance to marry someone I love, to have children and share my life with him. There's so few people I can even have sex with, on account of my disability, and if you stop me marrying John... I won't ever have the things I really want in my life. I'll hate you forever, if you take this from me."

Eric stalked towards me, looking dangerously angry. "No, you won't," he insisted. "You will thank me for this. You don't know your mutt here at all, and if you knew what kind of man he is, you would be no more interested in him than you are Bill."

"I know exactly what kind of man he is," I shot back. "Telepathic, remember? I hear every thought in his head. I know him."

"We'll see," he sniffed. "I have something to show you."

He sped into my room and when he came back a few moments later, he was carrying an envelope.

"I left these for you," Eric informed me, sliding glossy photos from it. "I thought you should know what kind of man your mutt really is."

As he handed me the first photo and I saw what Quinn was doing in it, my heart skipped a beat in horror.


	50. Snap

Pain and anguish were written all over the woman's face - and no wonder, with the things Quinn was doing to her in that photo. She was tied up, struggling while he... well, I really didn't want to think about the rest of it.

The second photo was even worse than the first, and I felt like I was going to regurgitate the glass of juice in my stomach. How could he hurt someone like that? Clearly, I didn't know my boyfriend at all; like Rene Lenier, he had a whole other side to him I hadn't seen before.

But then Eric triumphantly thrust a third photo under my nose, and I started to wonder what I was seeing. The things my boyfriend was doing to her breasts... they were every bit as intense as the look on her face indicated, I knew that. I also knew that when he did that to me, I didn't exactly ask him to stop and be gentle. If he ever walked up to me out of the blue and did those kind of things, it would be agonizing and I would hate him for it... but when he gradually worked me up to it, those same too-intense sensations became incredibly hot. There was a kind of high that set in after a while - seemingly more so when it was nipples being tormented, than any other body part - and that loving torture was something I now relished (almost as much as I enjoyed inflicting it on him). I loved it when he gently, carefully bit down on my nub when I was just about to come... and when he dug his fingertips deep into my flesh while we fucked... and when he tugged on my hair, all tangled in his hand, to bare my neck to his teeth... Did the woman in the pictures feel the same way about the even-more-painful things he did to her?

I could see only part of my boyfriend's face in that photo, but I recognized the expression: eyes glued to the woman's face, studying every flicker of emotion, concentrating on her reactions rather than how things felt to him. I'd seen true cruelty up close, and there was no trace of it there; instead, he was in that hyper-focused state that allowed him to distinguish when my pained grimace meant, 'damn that hurt, please do it again', and when it meant, 'ow, ow, stop'.

I looked up at him curiously, 'hearing' that he was embarrassed the photos were still doing the rounds. He didn't feel guilty for what he was doing in them, or afraid he would get in trouble for doing it, although he was worried how I would react - because most of it was so far outside my own boundaries he was worried I wouldn't be able to understand.

Then I looked at Eric, who seemed positively gleeful. It seemed like he expected me to throw a big tantrum, split up with my boyfriend, and beg him to take me back.

"Guys, I'm telepathic," I rolled my eyes at them both, tapping the side of my head. "I've been seeing this stuff in people's thoughts since I was younger than Hunter. So he dated someone who was into bondage, and was dumb enough to take photos. So what?"

Both men stared at me in shock.

Quinn recovered first, thinking, _well if anyone's gonna understand,_ but I got the feeling he was referring to something other than my telepathy.

"She did agree to that, didn't she?" I checked with my boyfriend.

He wasn't sure whether I was asking if the woman in the photos agreed to have sex with him, or agreed to the kinky part of it, but the answer to both questions was the same: "Yes." Then he added, "I swear to you, I wasn't doing her any harm. I know it looks that way, but it wasn't like that."

"No, I meant agreed for you to take pictures," I corrected.

"Oh, of course!" he blurted out. "It was her camera, which she set up... she wanted something for when I wasn't around, because I was still traveling a lot then, and -" He stopped short. "And you really don't want to know all that."

I gave a tiny, involuntary head-shake, then moved on to my other question. "And, um, what is that thing in the photos?" I pointed at the contraption in question, knowing I was blushing just asking.

"Vibrator," my boyfriend answered matter-of-factly.

"Oh," I frowned. "But it's not, well..."

"Penis-shaped? No."

I stared at the photos just long enough to work out what was actually going on in them, feeling myself turn ever-brighter shades of red as I did... especially when I started contemplating what that mix of intense pleasure and intense pain would be like, and my body responded as though it might be a fun thing to try. I decided it was time to change the subject.

"How did you get these?" I asked Eric.

"They are all over the internet," my ex informed me. "If you search for -"

"I'm not going to search for anything," I interrupted. "I know he had a life before he met me, I don't need to see the pictures."

"Those are the only pictures there are to see," Quinn corrected grumpily.

"You don't like people seeing these?" I was surprised; he usually had no problem with being seen naked.

He shook his head emphatically. "The damn things convinced everyone I'm into hurting women, and that's not even what I'm doing there! For years after that bastard started selling them, every woman I met wanted... well, stuff like that," he gestured at the photos, "only worse. And since that's not actually my favorite thing to do, and not something I'd ever considered first date stuff, I wasn't exactly pleased that the pics scared off anyone who wasn't into that, and encouraged everyone who was."

There was only one part of that I wanted to discuss: "Someone was selling the photos?"

Quinn nodded, calming down. "The woman in them, Ali... she and I dated for a couple years but were never serious, and a few months after we took those, she met someone she was falling in love with so we ended things. Long story short, when she was trying to explain what she liked to him she decided to show him the photos, even though we agreed they were only for her. He worked for the same hotel she did and recognized me as an executive at E(E)E because I'd run events there, so he figured I had money. He emailed a copy to himself, planning to blackmail me. But he showed them to a few people first, and one of them was a Were and knew a lot more about me than he did... so next thing, there's a web site selling the photos, and they're all over the place. The guy who stole them couldn't blackmail me after all and lost a lot in the divorce when Ali found out what he'd done, and the guy selling them never made much because once the pics were out, people just kept emailing them to each other instead of buying them from his site, so that's some consolation, I guess."

"I'm really sorry that happened," I commiserated. "I'm so glad I've never let anyone take photos of me having sex, I couldn't stand the whole world seeing something like that... it must be so weird."

Quinn was staring at me in horror, his thoughts a jumble. _She didn't agree? She doesn't know? She hasn't seen... Oh, shit. He only ordered me to talk to her because he knew I'd refuse! Damn, I fell for that and kept his secret... I'm such a fucking idiot!_

"Kept what secret?" I demanded.

Quinn turned to Eric then, and if I thought a shifter could kill a thousand-year-old vampire, I would've worried for Eric's safety. "I'm not telling her about this," he snarled. "You made this mess, you clean it up."

"Tell me what?" I tried to sound strong, but I could hear the fear in my voice.

My boyfriend came over to me, sat on my chair arm and hugged me, whispering, "I'm so sorry" into my hair as he held me.

Unfortunately, as soon as he was touching me, I could see flashes of his memories and I started to understand the problem.

"Someone took pictures of me having sex?" I gasped, but immediately 'heard' that wasn't it. "A video? With sound? Oh, God," I groaned, burying my face in my hands.

"I'm really sorry," my boyfriend repeated.

"You taped us... us doing that?" I was already starting to cry at the thought, so I bit my lip hard to stop the tears. It didn't help.

"Me?" he recoiled. "No, I would never... not without asking you. I don't do things to people against their will. Never."

"Then who?" My voice shook, sounding so small and weak I was sure they both needed their supernatural hearing to catch what I said.

Quinn went to glance at Eric, then realized what he was doing and glued his eyes back on me... even though the pain on my face was almost more than he could bear.

"You taped us," I looked over at Eric, silently begging him to tell me it wasn't true.

He just stood there, seeming unsure of himself for once.

"And people have seen it?" I couldn't stand the thought of people watching me do something so private, so intimate...

"I've done what I can to stop it circulating," Quinn offered. "Every time someone posts it on a web server somewhere, our tech team have it down within a day... but it's harder to stop people emailing it. By the time they find it on a mail server and delete all the copies on people's computers, it's already been forwarded to a few more people. I'm really sorry."

"You knew about this and you didn't tell me." I wasn't sure whether to be furious or heart-broken about that.

"Yeah, I'm an idiot. I thought you knew about it. I can't believe I fell for his BS," he glared at Eric.

"I can," Eric smirked.

"He said you were over-reacting and ordered me to talk to you about it and convince you it was no big deal... you can guess what I said to that," he apologized. "So I didn't mention it at all, which turns out is exactly what he wanted."

"Show me," I ordered my boyfriend. "I have to see..."

He nodded sadly, then went to retrieve his laptop from the kitchen, snarling at Eric as he passed.

"What have you done, Eric?" I rasped. "What have you done?"

He didn't answer, but I could swear that for a second, he looked guilty.

Then Quinn came back in carrying his computer, already finding something on the screen. He didn't show it to me right away, though.

"Are you sure you want to see this?" he checked first. "I can tell you about it instead, if seeing it will upset you too much?"

I shook my head. "I need to see it. I need to know what other people have seen."

He nodded and put his laptop on my lap. An image filled the screen: Me. Eric. Eric's office... clothed so far, thankfully.

When Quinn pressed the 'play' button, I saw myself offer Eric the inside of my wrist, which he kissed. Then a tinny version of his voice purred, "I know what you just did, lover. You are so very devious. Wonderfully devious," and a tinny version of my voice replied, "Well, I did learn from the _Master_." In the video, I giggle as Eric lunges at me and starts kissing me passionately... but watching it, tears welled in my eyes.

From there, it was exactly as I recalled: He pins me to his desk and kisses me, while I rub my chest against his. He unzips the back of my dress, pulling the top down around my waist, then tears my bra in two so my breasts will move freely for the rest of the night. His hands are all over them, then his mouth latches onto my nipple and the mortifying sound of my moaning gets louder. His hands slide under my skirt, destroying my panties and flinging them across the room, then doing things that make my moans more frantic. When he judges me ready, he pushes his chair back from his desk so there will be room for me to ride him, giving the camera its first view of his gracious plenty (which twitches in a way that seems calculated to draw attention to it) and pushes my skirt up around my waist so my sex is in full view, glistening obscenely as he slowly withdraws his hand. Then he holds up the fingers that have just been inside me so the camera can see my moisture. In the moment he makes me wait, I murmur, "please," spread out so open and trusting on his desk. _Like a lamb to the slaughter_, I thought to myself.

Then he looks up, his eyes suddenly meeting mine from the screen as he looks directly at the camera and winks, leaning back to give a perfect shot of him lined up at my entrance. _He knew_, I realized. He knew the camera was there; knew we were being taped; knew we would have an audience. Then I remembered the comments Pam made about my 'performance' immediately afterward, and realized that we _had_ an audience as this happened; somehow, the other vampires had been able to watch the video as it was recorded. I felt nauseous.

The rest of it was predictable; him pulling me down onto him, bouncing me around... but I hadn't realized why he tangled his fingers in my hair that night until I see the angle he holds my head at - or rather, see every expression on my face as he fucks me. When my eyes are closed, he looks at the camera too, showing off how much he enjoys being inside me. I silently vow that he will never again know that feeling.

When I'm just about to climax, he looks at the camera and purrs, "See what happens to devious girls," then runs his fangs along my neck. Thinking he was talking to me, I look right into his eyes and playfully promise, "I'll never be bad again, Master." My silent tears turned into loud sobs, knowing how he used me; that I had stupidly gone along with this game to bring him pleasure, not realizing I was making a promotional video for The Sexual Talents of Eric Northman, Viking Sex God At Your Service. He bites me right at the happy moment, holding my hair to keep me facing the camera, showing the whole world how pleasurable it is to be his dinner. I sobbed even louder.

I felt like him secretly sharing that special moment was the worst humiliation I could possibly endure, but I was wrong: worse was still to come. In a post-orgasmic haze, I murmur appreciative little words: "mmmmm," I tell him, "oh, wow... that was incredible... thank you, Eric..." He leans me back on the desk as I mindlessly praise him, so the camera can see my breasts and privates as I bask in the aftermath of Eric Northman's sexual conquest. And then, even worse, when he pricks a finger to rub his blood into my wounds and heal them, I shake my head and take it into my mouth to stop him. "Don't heal them," I pant like some stupid fang-banger. "I want everyone to see. To know that I'm yours." He faces away from the camera to hide how my words touched him; it only sees him kissing me, clearly excited again.

He lifts me from his desk effortlessly, and when my back is to the camera, he makes a thumbs up sign and smirks. He leans me against the wall with my legs around his waist, then moves me towards the camera until my face and breasts fill the screen. Then they bounce lewdly as he hammers into me, unseen. "Scream my name," he mutters, and I obey, yelling, "Oh, fuck, Eric!" as I reach my peak again, then whine, "Oh God, oh Eric, oh God," as he keeps going, finally screaming, "Ooooh, Eric," again as he roars with me, then leans back into the frame to tuck his face against my shoulder. My every expression is caught on tape, all those embarrassing faces I pull during sex recorded clearly.

As if that weren't enough humiliation, the video kept going for another couple of minutes, to show him helping me pull the skirt of my dress down and the top of it up, gently zipping me back into it... and then bouncing me on his knee like a child, to watch the way my breasts move beneath it when they no longer have a bra to contain them. As soon as he does, Pam appears, calling him "Master" in the most salacious tone possible and asking to borrow me. Eric tells her, "Retract your fangs and you may," so she takes my hand and drags me out. It looks like I was just passed from one vampire to the next, for another round of fucking and feeding. It's obvious that I'm naked beneath the thin fabric of my dress, and seeing the way my breasts and bottom move as she pulls me along, I felt ashamed that I walked around his club like that.

Quinn slapped the laptop closed the second the video finished and cuddled me tightly, wishing he could take my pain away. He knew what it was like for the whole world to see you in an intimate, unguarded moment, and even though he had no problem with people seeing him naked - or even watching him in the act, so long as he knew they were there - he shared my opinion that the words and actions given for a lover's satisfaction are for them alone; not for sharing with strangers.

"Alcide's seen that," I wailed. "I caught images from it in his mind when he drove me home from the airport, and I thought he was just imagining what Eric and I got up to... if he's seen it, how many others have?"

"A lot," Quinn admitted. "It's been emailed to me about twenty times by different people. I'm really sorry."

"Lover, you have nothing to be ashamed of," Eric informed me haughtily, "you are magnificent. The whole world should see your glory."

"My _glory_? That's what you call it?" I spluttered. "Well, the whole world has seen it now, haven't they? Thanks to you." I looked up at him, my shame turning to fury. I felt my heart ice over as I eyed him, knowing I could never again love this lying, scheming creature.

"He's right that _you_ shouldn't be ashamed," Quinn soothed, silently adding, _Nine minutes? TWICE in nine minutes? I wouldn't email that to anyone._ He gave me a cheeky look, showing me there were ways to handle this that didn't involve me crying. It was true: the whole video was under fifteen minutes long; not exactly matching my boyfriend's usual languid love-making.

I couldn't help laughing. "Don't be mean," I gently poked his ribs. "Not everyone has your stamina, honey."

Eric stared back and forth between us, first looking confused, then angry.

I silently added, _Hey, he's got a great slogan for his little promotional video there: 'Eric Northman, Speedily servicing women since 983 AD.'_

Quinn completely cracked up, unable to stop laughing even when Eric started looking murderous... in fact, that just made him laugh harder.

"You are making fun of me," Eric huffed.

"You don't think you deserve it?" Quinn shot back. "Secretly taping her like that... I'd bet every cent I have that you've got a kill switch hidden somewhere in your desk, to shut that camera off any time you feel like it."

My mouth dropped open for a moment, knowing he was right: there is no way Eric would have a security system in his office without some way to turn it off when he wanted his privacy... He had _chosen_ to tape me, I realized, and that somehow made it all a hundred times worse. When I closed my mouth an instant later, I could feel my lips settling into a hard, thin line as my jaw clenched in ice-cold fury.

"This video is a testament to her beauty," my ex insisted. "She is glorious... stunning... superb. A goddess visiting earth for my enjoyment."

"I'm glad you like it, Eric," I crossed my arms over my chest, "because that's the closest you'll ever get to sleeping with me again."

He looked stunned. "You are angry," he finally noticed. "It upsets you that I shared your beauty with others."

"No, Eric, I'm furious," I snapped, "I don't do that for _others_; that was for you. Only you. I haven't been with a quarter-million people, I've been with three. I only share my body with people I love, if I'm given a choice. You didn't give me a choice. You shared my body with... I don't know how many people, like I'm some trashy fang-banger you can hand around to whoever wants a turn. You used me to show off your talents, to make a crappy promotional video to advertise your services: _'Eric Northman, speedily servicing women since 986 AD'_. Or whenever it was. And they're welcome to you. They can all have their own nine minutes and leave half-satisfied. Now get out of my house."

I knew I'd been harsh - I wasn't exactly happy with Eric right now, knowing what he'd done - and I was feeling like the more I hurt him, the better. Seeing him wink at the camera as he showed the whole world my hoo-ha was bad enough, but that smirk while he made a thumbs up sign behind my back... for that, I would gladly kill him. The look on his face said I was, and I couldn't help but smile back.

His hangdog expression as he walked out felt like a prize to me - one I would treasure for a long time to come.

But then it was just Quinn and I, and I felt sure there was more to be said about me offering Eric my neck again before I'd be fully forgiven.


	51. Pudding

Quinn was doing his usual pragmatic (read: slightly avoidant) thing of dealing with every practical matter he could think of before he faced his feelings about the evening's events.

First, he sat down on my chair arm and licked the small wounds on my neck, using his shifter saliva to erase Eric's mark on me. Then I insisted on having a shower because when I wasn't turned on, being liberally coated in someone else's spittle wasn't so hot. He readily agreed to helping me, but when I apologized for smelling of Eric, he nonchalantly told me that I smelled far more like Frannie, because she sat on my lap for three hours or so that afternoon in Eric's car. He breezily informed me that I smelled, quote, "really nice but not at all sexy," which added even more to my desire to get clean again. (Neither of us mentioned that we each also smelled like The Creep who Quinn killed and half-ate that afternoon, after finding him on top of his screaming, struggling sister.)

He took the opportunity to show off his skill at dealing with long hair by washing mine, and even though I knew he'd learned to do that while he was raising Frannie, it seemed sexy to me that he knew how to clean, condition and comb out women's hair. But then, I did always love having my scalp touched. By the time he was done shampooing, I felt relaxed all over, but that wasn't entirely a good thing: I still hadn't eaten all day, and the one big glass of juice he brought me earlier was wearing off. When I almost fainted in the shower, I 'heard' Quinn make a mental note to get food into me, pronto. He had me fully washed and out of the shower two minutes later; had a blue cotton nightdress on me less than a minute after that; and then I was lying exhausted in my bed, feeling too tired to move, but weirdly buzzed from taking Eric's blood.

My tummy was grumbling, and I was almost tempted to finish the coffee still sitting half-drunk (and completely cold) by my bed. Apart from those mouthfuls of caffeine that morning, I'd had a few swigs of water and a glass of juice all day: no solid food at all. When he came back in a minute later carrying food, I immediately wanted to kiss him... and for once, it wasn't because he was wearing only boxers and looked delicious himself. He coaxed me into a sitting position, with my back against the headboard and my legs under the covers. Then he set a plate of food on my lap: two sandwiches, a little tub of chocolate pudding and a spoon. It wasn't fancy, but the fact that he made food appear in under five minutes, without me having to move a muscle, made him my favorite person in the world. I was that hungry.

"I wasn't sure what you felt like so I made one cheese and tomato, one peanut butter and jelly," he told me as he sat down next to me.

"Thank you," I whispered, tears forming in my eyes. "You're so wonderful, John. I don't deserve you. I'm so sorry I let Eric bite me... can you ever forgive me?"

He sat down heavily on the side of the bed, thinking about it. "You really believed he was badly hurt?" he asked me softly.

I nodded. "I could've sworn he was... what I felt through the bond... I can't explain it. If he's not hurt, I don't know how he did it."

He gave me a wan smile and shook his head, then declared, "Then there's nothing to forgive."

I stared at him in shock. "But I let someone else -"

"We agreed you could give him blood if he was hurt," he interrupted. "I said you could do it. If we agreed you'd never let him bite you again under any circumstances, we'd be over right now... but that's not what we agreed. What happened tonight... that's really not how it was meant to happen. I meant it like... if he's dying in front of you, I won't hold it against you if you try to save him. I didn't mean, if you're dying," his voice cracked, and he stopped speaking for a long while. "But if I say you can do something, I won't go back on my word, no matter how it works out." He was deadly serious about that; even if I wasn't telepathic, the expression on his face would make that clear.

"But he's not hurt." I was close to tears.

"I know," he stroked my face sweetly. "That fucking blood-sucker... you were dying," his voice broke up again. "Of all the times to trick you into giving him blood. Short-sighted moron." He was furious with Eric, I could feel that, but not with me.

"Why aren't you mad at me?" I demanded. "You should be mad at me. I cheated on you. I let someone else bite me..."

"Sookie, the _only_ thing I said it was OK for you to do with anyone else, is give him blood if he's hurt. When you said V has 'certain effects' on you, I thought you meant... well, I half-expected to walk in on you naked. But I could see the life slipping out of you, and if that was the only way to keep you alive..." His voice went all shaky again, and I could feel that he was struggling not to cry in front of me. "If I had to choose between watching you die, and... that. Well, I chose that." Then he abruptly perked up again. "But you didn't put me through that. You took a drug that makes people do crazy, out-of-control things - usually sick sexual things - and you did the only thing we'd agreed you could to do." He broke into a big grin then, leaning in to kiss me. "I'm actually kinda proud of you for that."

"This-all makes my head spin," I whispered between kisses. "The human rules are so simple..."

"I know. But I'm pretty sure they don't cover what to do when you're blood-bonded to one person, and your fated mate is someone else."

"They really don't," I agreed, starting to see his point. Whoever made the human rules hadn't considered that possibility at all.

"Although I gotta say, the rules humans follow are what make no sense to me - the same for everyone, like every person and every relationship are all the same... how the hell is that gonna work?"

"A lot of the time, it doesn't," I admitted, thinking of all the humans who I knew the standard rules didn't work so well for, but who stuck to them anyway... well, until they couldn't take any more and split up with their partner, anyway. "So what are the rules for shifters?"

"Find out what your partner's OK with, and don't do anything else."

"It's that simple?" I couldn't keep the disbelief out of my voice; shifter arrangements always seemed so complicated to me.

He shrugged. "It means everyone's gotta figure out what they're OK and not OK with for themselves, then communicate that clearly to their partner, and find out what their partner's OK with, and make rules that work for both of them... If couples are good at talking to each other about things, it works fine. If they're not, there's problems... there's no standard rules to fall back on, if you don't talk."

I nodded and started gnawing on my sandwiches then, finally feeling relaxed enough to eat something. "So we're really OK?"

He nodded. "I still want you to learn to close the bond, though. I can't handle shit like that happening again."

"I want that too," I agreed. "I've always wanted that... to not have it messing with my feelings any more... to know what's mine and what's his."

He gave a curt nod, then looked as worried as I'd been a few moments ago. "Are we OK, babe?"

"Why wouldn't we be?" I shrugged, trying to dismiss his concerns, still nibbling my cheese and tomato sandwich.

"I got carried away with that guy today... seeing him try to hurt Frannie, I just lost it. The kill was quick and painless, I don't ever draw that out, but after that... I was too upset to stop, so I let the tiger part of me take over for a while, and you shouldn't have seen that. And then I lost my temper with Frannie... and then Eric dug out those photos... and I didn't tell you about that video..." He was heaping guilt upon himself. He held himself to very high standards of behavior, and he felt like he'd failed me about a dozen times today.

"I don't have a problem with you," I insisted, and seeing how relieved he was, I couldn't help but smile.

"You're sure?" he checked, before he'd let himself fully believe it.

I nodded. "If I walked in on someone trying to do that to my brother, I'm pretty sure that lightning thing would happen, and I wouldn't try to stop it. It's just lucky that because he's a guy..." I trailed off, realizing that weighing up the relative likelihood of me ever being in that position wasn't relevant to the conversation at hand. "I'm OK with the tiger stuff, John. I know what you are, and I know you're gonna handle things the way a tiger would, sometimes. As for the photos, things you did before we met don't concern me, even if seeing you with someone else does kinda make my blood boil with crazy jealousy, even though I know -"

"It's in the past," he finished for me, leaning over to kiss my neck. He didn't mind my jealousy at all; in fact, it made him happy. Weird.

"And I know you believed that I knew about the video already, so I'll let it slide this time. Lord knows I'm in no position to judge you for falling for Eric's manipulative crap," I rolled my eyes, faintly disgusted with myself. "But anything else I ought to know, don't just assume that I already do. As for Frannie... sibling fights happen," I smiled grimly. "Just try not to get into too many while she's staying here, OK?"

He smiled back and nodded, finally remembering what he meant to do before and handing me my orange juice. I drained it in one long slurp, then handed it back to him, asking for another. He had my glass refilled and back in my hand a few seconds later, moving at Supe speed. I heard the fridge door close at the exact instant he appeared in the doorway with my juice in one hand and a beer for himself in the other.

"Aren't you hungry?" I asked as he climbed back into bed next to me, changing the subject.

"I had a sandwich in the kitchen while I made yours. Sorry, bad habit; teaching Frannie to eat was such an adventure, I got used to grabbing something while I prepared her meals," he apologized. "I got lunch today too. We stopped at a Wendy's on the way out of New Orleans while you were asleep, she has a thing for their taco salad and insists we stop every time we pass one. We woke you to see if you wanted anything, but you turned green when I mentioned food so I figured it was a bad idea to put a greasy burger in front of you."

"Thanks, I'm real glad you didn't. That ketamine stuff made me feel like throwing up. It's good I had an empty stomach when they shot me with the dart."

He chuckled. "That's so like you, finding something to be happy about even when you've just been shot with a tranq dart."

"It's better than being shot with a bullet," I shrugged, then took another big bite of my sandwich. I had already wolfed down the cheese sandwich and some more juice; now I was eating the PB&J almost as fast. He'd already finished most of his beer, I noticed.

"Feeling better?" he asked when I finished my second sandwich, putting the now-empty beer bottle on the nightstand.

I nodded enthusiastically. "Thank you so much. You're the best, John."

"Babe, it's two boring sandwiches and a glass of juice from a carton, you don't have to be so grateful."

"I was hungry, thirsty and exhausted, so you brought me food. Nobody's taken care of me like this before." A couple of stray tears slid down my face silently. "Not since my Gran died. You're by far the best boyfriend I've ever had."

He put his arm around me and held me for a few moments, then kissed my hair and decided to cheer me up.

"You didn't touch your chocolate pudding," my boyfriend pouted at me.

He took the pudding and the spoon from my plate and opened the little tub of chocolate custard. He moved so he was facing me and spooned some of it out to feed to me, but I shook my head and scowled at him.

"Hey, I can feed myself!" I protested.

"I know," he smiled, "I just like putting things in your mouth." He looked so innocent that I knew he was up to no good.

I was suddenly very interested in the chocolate pudding... and the handsome man who wanted to feed it to me. He sure was good at making me forget to be sad, my boyfriend. I giggled as he spooned some into my mouth, then said "Mmmm" as it hit my tongue. I hadn't eaten chocolate pudding for a long time - the ones in the fridge were for Hunter - and I'd forgotten how good it tasted.

"This is actually pretty good," I admitted.

He tried to put another spoon of pudding in my mouth as I spoke, but because I was moving my lips, it ended up all over the bottom one. As I started to lick it off, he gave me a hungry look and leaned in to help me. His tongue cleaned my lips thoroughly, nibbling them as he did. It felt like he was nibbling me somewhere else, much lower down my body. I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him with all I had, provoking a long, happy moan.

When I pulled back from our kiss, I laughed again. There was a puddle of pudding on his chest, oozing onto his left nipple. It looked as though I had pressed the tub of pudding against his body and spilled some when I had leaned in to kiss him. It appeared completely accidental, but I didn't have to read his mind to suspect it wasn't. Not that I minded; the mere thought of licking yummy chocolate custard off his beautiful muscle-bound body was making me very wet.

"You're so careless," I admonished him, not meaning it for a second.

"Sorry," he replied, not meaning it any more than I did.

I ran a finger right through the puddle of pudding, then put my now-chocolatey finger in my mouth and sucked it far cleaner than I needed to. He stared at me as though I was the chocolate pudding and he hadn't eaten in weeks. I leaned over and started licking up the spilled dessert from his chest, working very slowly and thoroughly, while he made a whole series of appreciative noises, none of which sounded especially human. His tiger instincts had been simmering lust in the back of his mind all afternoon, and I could feel that what we were doing made him want to pounce on me.

As I finished cleaning up the spilled chocolate pudding with my tongue, I finally made my way to his nipple. I was licking, sucking and nibbling all around it, making sure I got every drop... including a few imaginary ones that were especially hard to clean up. His free hand tangled in my hair, pushing me closer to the wall of hard flesh in front of me. Quinn's body would make a body builder jealous, the sheer amount of muscle on his frame almost incomprehensible. But somehow, he carried all that bulk gracefully. My hands wandered over his body of their own accord, while I tormented his nipple with my teeth.

"Oh God," he choked out a few times, clearly appreciating my clean-up efforts.

When I really couldn't pretend to be licking up spilled pudding any more, I let his nipple slip from my mouth and sat up again. My eyes roamed his body and the bulge in his boxers made me especially happy. I thought of how he felt inside me and got wetter by the second. I realized we were just staring at each other, both too distracted to remember what we were doing. _Oh, chocolate pudding_, I remembered.

I opened my mouth and waited until he got the hint. It took almost a full minute - and some very graphic thoughts about what I might want him to put in my mouth that I 'heard' loud and clear - but he eventually shook off the fog of lust and put some more pudding into my mouth. Eating it from a spoon was a major let-down after licking it off his delicious body. When a second spoonful of pudding made it to my mouth without incident, I was considering telling him exactly that.

Luckily, I leaned in to whisper something provocative at the same moment he went to spoon more dessert into my mouth. I managed to knock his hand and another spoon of pudding landed on his chest. Since this effort was almost a real accident, it didn't land on his nipple, but I quickly fixed that by using my finger to smear it across. He chuckled as I sucked my finger clean suggestively. Then my mouth was on his chest, licking the chocolate custard off him as slowly as I could, nipping the little mouthfuls of flesh I sucked in between my teeth. The sounds he made were driving me crazy, and I lingered far longer than was strictly necessary before finally pulling away.

"You're gonna get pudding on your nightdress," he mumbled, barely coherent. I knew immediately that it was a ploy.

"I'd better take it off then," I murmured, then pulled it over my head and threw it across the room in a single smooth movement.

No sooner was my nightgown off, than he went to feed me another spoonful of pudding. This time he didn't even pretend to have a mishap; he simply turned the spoon over before it got to my mouth, so the custard fell onto my breast. I gasped as the cool dessert hit my skin. An instant later, his tongue was there, busily cleaning up - and teasing my nipple more than a little along the way. I was moaning loudly, and so was he. I couldn't tell which one of us was enjoying this more.

When he was finally done, having licked far more of my breast than a single spoon of dessert could possibly cover, he picked up the little tub for more. It was practically empty. Not easily deterred, he eked out one last spoonful by scraping down the sides carefully. He held up the spoon of pudding and gave me a naughty grin that made my insides twitch in excitement. Whatever he had planned, it was going to be fun.

He made no pretense at all this time; just took the spoon and pressed the bowl of it to my nipple. A choked gasp escaped my throat as the cool pudding covered the tender bud. He used the back of the spoon to spread it all over my breast, covering as much of it as he could with sticky dessert, making me moan as he did. When he was finally done, he licked the spoon clean in front of me, showing me exactly how talented his tongue was. I was as turned on as I had ever been.

A moment later his mouth was on my breast, licking and nibbling all over it, cleaning and teasing in equal measure. Then he was taking as much of my breast as he could into his mouth, sucking with all his might, then letting it slide out until he was just holding my nipple between his teeth very gently, and repeating it all over again. I couldn't tell if I was moaning, screaming, keening or all three, but I sure was making a lot of noise.

My hands found their way to his head and I urged him on, stroking his scalp as I pressed him into my soft flesh. He grunted in a way that would be funny any other time, but at that moment, it seemed like the sexiest thing I had ever heard. I hungered for him, needing him inside me and on top of me and all over me. But first, I wanted him in my mouth.

I pushed him back and took the empty tub from his hand. "More," I managed to choke out.

He gave me a wild-eyed look that said he was going to devour me, then took off at full Supe speed. He was back before I heard the fridge door swing closed. He stood in front of me with another small tub of pudding and I held out my hand for him to stop, so I could look at him. My eyes traveled up and down his body, taking in every sculpted inch of perfect male flesh. He was so beautiful to me, even the faint web of scars all over his gorgeous olive skin was lovely somehow.

"You're drooling, babe," he chuckled, looking very happy about it.

I touched a finger to my mouth and found that he was right. I decided I didn't care, and went right back to staring at him. He was still wearing his boxers and, appealing as the strained fabric was, I wanted to see all of him.

I stared directly at his crotch. "You don't want to get pudding on those, do you?" I asked, not bothering to look up.

He put the little tub in my hand, then turned and peeled off his underwear. I made an animal growl as he revealed his firm backside to me - he knew I was an ass girl and took every opportunity to tease me. He turned and gave me a look equally ferocious and starving, his eyes flickering between purple and amber. The tiger in him was especially hungry tonight.

I beckoned him, and he crawled back onto the bed, his eyes wandering up and down my body as he did, lingering especially long on my breasts. He knelt in front of me, his knees a few inches apart. I stared at his cock and licked my lips; he was so big, so hard and so good... I could scarcely believe my luck. As I put my hands on the outside of his legs and pushed them together, he realized what I was about to do and gave me a pleading look. I grinned back triumphantly.

I leaned over to kiss him, and as I did, I 'accidentally' spilled most of the second tub of chocolate pudding into his lap. The sound he made as the cool custard met his throbbing groin was equal parts relief and desperation.

"Oops," I grinned as I pulled back to survey my handiwork. He couldn't take his eyes off me.

The pudding had all landed in one spot, near his base. That didn't suit my purposes, so I used my fingers to spread it all over his wonderful cock, loving the ravenous sounds he made as I did. When I was satisfied with my efforts, I licked my fingers clean one at a time, while he watched my tongue and lips in rapt fascination. I leaned in and kissed him passionately, letting him feel the soft, nimble flesh that would soon touch him elsewhere.

My mouth left his lips and worked its way down his body, inch by tortuous inch, kissing and nipping every step of the way. He was biting his lip hard, while a string of pleas escaped his mouth. He murmured "please," "yes," "oh God," and "babe" many times - and some more specific pleas as well - desperate for any stimulation I would give him.

When I finally reached his crotch, he was almost ready to burst. I smiled brightly; I loved having this effect on him, teasing him to distraction before I gave him any release. I started with the custard that had oozed off his hard length, onto his inner thighs. I licked it up delightedly, rubbing my nipples against his legs as I did. His hands were tangled in my hair and he was moaning so loudly, I knew every vampires for miles around would hear him clearly. I didn't care.

Then I moved up to the base of him, sucking up the pudding that had landed in his dark curls, pulling the hair hard between my teeth while he whimpered my name, again and again. I knew I had him now; his orgasm was inevitable and I need only decide when and how I would make him come. I licked up and down his length, pretending this was still just a way to clean up spilled dessert. As I nibbled away at the spots where there was too much pudding to just lick up, he got closer and closer, louder and louder, more and more desperate to be in my mouth. I wasn't done cleaning though, so I kept licking, sucking and nibbling until he sounded so ready it was cruel not to take him.

My hands slid down his inner thighs, and as I pushed his knees apart, he took a huge gasp and started begging.

"Oh babe... please... please babe... your mouth... Oh God... please... please, now... please..."

I swirled my tongue around his head a few times, loving the long low groans he made, then lowered myself so my throat was in line with his cock. I opened my mouth wide and relaxed, letting him slide into me. He was making incomprehensible but unmistakably desperate sounds as I took him as deeply as I could. I was surprised when his dark curls touched my lips; I hadn't expected to take him all the way on my first attempt. I closed my lips around him and slid back again, my nipples rubbing against his leg the whole way.

I took a deep breath and slid down his length a second time, working up and down as he screamed. His fingers tangled sweetly in my hair, playing with the soft strands with his eyes glued to my face, transfixed by the sight of me pleasuring him so skillfully. He loved that I did this so well, not minding at all that I had learned it with someone else; just enjoying all the talents and preferences that I brought with me now.

He was seconds away from coming, and I wanted to taste him when he did. I slid back until only his head was in my mouth, then used my tongue to tease him while my hands stroked down to his base, over and over. His hands clenched in my hair and he roared as he came, filling my mouth. I swallowed and slurped and swallowed again, feeling his pleasure almost as intensely as if it were my own. I could feel his enjoyment and satisfaction, but also his affection and joy. He truly loved me; his mind sang with adoration.

A moment later, he collapsed in a boneless heap beside me. I smiled and planted little kisses all over him, as his body shuddered with aftershocks.

"Babe, that was incredible," he whispered. "God, I love you."

"I love you too, my tiger." I snuggled against him and kissed him tenderly.

His warm arms wrapped around me and held me to him. "Mmmm, the way you taste right now... like chocolate and me... so good."

He had a big, silly grin plastered on his face, and I couldn't help smiling back. He was silently telling me how perfect what I'd just done was - not just, quote, _the best damn blow job of my life_, but also that I'd chosen to do it after I told him what a great boyfriend he was because he'd taken care of me all evening; healing my neck, washing my hair, bringing me food, spoon-feeding me chocolate pudding in bed... He wanted me to know what a turn-on it was, to feel like he was 'earning' my sexual favors; that any day-to-day activity could become hot to him if I hinted I might reward him like that... maybe... if he was good enough... _Not in a 'quid pro quo' kinda way_, he hastily added, trying to explain that it worked even better if I was sometimes capricious about it - so he couldn't just act on autopilot, doing the same thing he always did to get what he wanted, but instead had to be attentive to me all the time. I could feel that he didn't just mean blow jobs, either; that he was just as turned on by the idea of 'earning' a chance to kiss my cleavage... or other parts of me...

I could feel that admitting that - even silently - made him feel vulnerable though, because he was worried about how I'd react. I dipped into his mind to find out why, and quickly realized it had nothing to do with me; it was simply that he'd been with women in the past who didn't like that. He'd been lectured more than once about how it was 'natural' for men to be in control and take what they wanted... and therefore 'unnatural' that he preferred a woman to jump him, rather than have to pursue someone who feigned disinterest. The tiger part of him could never deal with that: tiger courtship started when a female left her scent marks and wandered around calling for a mate, telling one or more males she wanted them to come spend some time with her, so human female coyness just didn't do it for him. He didn't mind working to woo a woman, but he needed to see some clear, unambiguous signs of interest first; he wouldn't chase someone who didn't want him.

I smiled broadly and decided to show him exactly how OK with that I was - by pushing him onto his back and rolling on top of him.

"My tiger," I murmured in his ear, nipping the scar on his neck as I did. "I just wanna rub my scent all over you."

"Mmmm, yes please," he grinned up at me, thinking how much he loved smelling me on his body.

A shiver ran through both of us as he said it, and an instant later we each knew that our mating ceremony had just begun. I 'heard' him realize that being marked with your new mate's scent at the start was far more significant than shifters knew any more... and it wasn't because being able to arouse his mate gave a man mandate to do the cruel, harmful things the traditional ceremony required him to do to 'break her in' as a new pack member. He was adamant that wasn't the case, no matter what shifter law said, and unsurprisingly I agreed with him. Instead, it was significant because to shifters, having a lover's sexual juices rubbed all over you as a potent symbol of ownership, because smelling someone else's scent told other animals to keep away. For his body to smell strongly of me meant he was mine; that I had a prior claim over him and would fight to keep him for myself. His own need to be mated to me had developed strongly and suddenly, after I asked him to scent-mark me and clearly loved it when he did. I 'heard' him realize it was my own willingness to be marked as his, even temporarily, that triggered that need in him, at the same moment I realized I could only let him claim me because he was so willing to be marked as mine, in any way I wanted. If he didn't want to be mine, there was no way I could become his.

"This is how it starts," he whispered, gazing up at me adoringly. "You asked me to scent-mark you... that's what started it. Once you were marked as mine... I had to be yours. I _had_ to. You're my mate and you were mine and I had to be claimed by you..."

We stared into each other's eyes, watching one another realize what was about to happen... and then watching the excitement that took hold an instant later. My fairy instincts were screaming at me to rub myself all over him, and with a snap of my fingers my panties were gone so I could. He went to warn me that there would be no turning back once I had my scent all over him, but there was already no turning back - if my mate asked for my scent all over him, there was nothing I wanted but his body against mine - and I didn't mind at all.

"You're mine," I growled. "All mine."

He kissed me feverishly, and his excitement over my possessiveness lit a spark inside me. I rubbed my body against his, leaving my juices all over him. He moved me around slowly so he would be soaked in my scent, until the wonderful feel of grinding against him got too much, and I abruptly slid up his body 'til my breasts were on either side of his face. A split-second later, I'd decided which one I wanted sucked first and brought it to his mouth, watching him beneath me as he sucked, licked and gently bit my nipple, purring all the while. I rocked my crotch against his hard stomach, using the ridges of muscle to stimulate myself thoroughly, babbling the word 'mine' over and over as I did. Then I moved my other nipple to his mouth, and we repeated the whole wonderful exercise, until all I wanted was to come all over him. I slowly slid up his body, and unlike the first time we did this when I felt unsure and hesitant, this time I was only taking my time to tease him, loving his look of rapt anticipation.

When I finally got to his mouth, he held me tightly around my waist, using his hand to push my body down over him, so all he could smell was me. His other hand found a nipple to tease and torment, while he expertly sucked and licked, quickly bringing me to the peak I craved. I screamed and bucked against him as my juices flooded his mouth, leaving my scent in one more place, to show he was very definitely mine. But he didn't let me go right away, keeping on flicking me ever-so-gently as I writhed and protested; far too sensitive to take any further stimulation. For those first few seconds I really did want him to stop, but then the pain faded into incredible pleasure, and when he expertly brought me to one more peak a minute later, I felt intensely grateful to him for knowing when to push my body that little bit further. I sighed blissfully and rolled off him, curling my floppy, happy body around his head so he could turn his face to the side and plant sweet little kisses all over the underside of my breasts - one of those places that never seemed to get touched nearly enough.

We lay like that for a long while, as a different feeling slowly came over me. Where it had felt so vital to be possessive and mark my claim on him, I now wanted him to do the same; to mark, mate and claim me - except instead of doing it little by little over a couple of days, the way I had claimed him, I wanted it all right now; had to belong to him in every way I could.

I didn't realize how closely he was watching my face until he quietly ordered, "Tell me what you want."

My lower lip trembled as the reality of the situation hit me. For a moment, I felt sure I couldn't do this; that after all that had happened to me, putting myself in someone else's hands and trusting them to care for me was more than I could manage. But then I looked into his eyes again, and into his mind, and knew that I would come to no harm. He was still watching me as I finally made my mind up.

"Claim me?" I shakily asked him. "Mate me? Mark my neck and make me all yours. Please, John, I need this."

He nodded once, then rolled me onto my back so he could arch up above me and kiss me, his lips traveling from my mouth to my neck and back again as I softly cooed in delight. When he finally pulled back, watching my face to check that I was still OK, I stretched my throat out again, offering it to him to sink his sharp tiger fangs into, so I would forever be marked as his.

As he saw my outstretched neck he got a definite glint in his eye, and I knew that very soon I would be all his.


	52. Yours

"You're certain about this?" Quinn checked one last time, reminding me that I was asking for something irrevocable.

"Positive," I grinned.

I wanted him to mark, mate and claim me; I was sure of that. I'd mated and claimed him days ago, and we'd been imprinting to one another ever since. I'd also marked his neck to show the whole world he was mine the next day, and because I'm part-fairy, that had also started the type of bond fairies have with their mates forming between us, too. To let him do the same to me felt like one more step to me, not the big deal he was making it out to be. Still, I knew why this meant so much to him... and in truth, it meant a lot to me, too.

He grinned at my answer and kissed me, holding me tight to his body so I could feel that he was hard again, just thinking about claiming me. I loved the way it felt to be held like this; his arms so strong they felt inescapable, but a warm and loving kind of inescapable. I craved his strength tonight, and that streak of possessiveness he usually fought to contain.

I slowly disentangled my limbs from his, then got out of bed, pulling him with me. He kissed me sweetly again, wondering what I wanted. I told him by turning around and presenting myself to him like a tigress in heat, leaning over the bed with my ass in the air to display how wet and ready I was. We'd been fooling around for almost an hour already (and I would probably never look at chocolate pudding the same way again), but I knew I wouldn't feel done tonight 'til I'd had him inside me for a long, long while.

"Claim me," I murmured, looking over my shoulder right at him. Then more words came out of my mouth; words I hadn't intended to say aloud. "Make me beg you and beg you, and then claim me so roughly... please, John?"

He just stared at me, licking his lips as his eyes flickered from purple to amber and back again... but I only half-noticed his eyes; my own kept wandering downwards, to see how hard he was as he stared at my dripping sex, my prone position... the man would have me begging before he'd said a word or laid a single finger on me. Perfect.

"Your cock," I gasped, wriggling my ass to draw his attention to it. "Please, your cock."

"What about it?" He started stroking himself, making me jealous of his lucky, lucky hand, getting to feel that wonderful organ.

I arched my back as hard as I could, hoping he'd take the hint. "Force it in, all at once, make me feel how big you are, make it hurt..." I needed him to know it was OK to be forceful tonight, because I knew that even now, he wouldn't ever assume that.

He finally bent over me then, sliding his cock along my lips to tease me, then pressed his hot hard chest to my back and nibbled on my ear. "Are you sure you can handle me fucking you roughly?" he purred in my ear, feigning concern to stall and keep me begging.

I choked out an incoherent noise and nodded like mad, wishing he'd do just that. "Please," I gasped when I could form a single word again.

"Are you sure you can handle me," he suddenly, without warning, pinched my nipples, then tugged them sharply to pull me back against him, "torturing these as I do?"

I whimpered at the sudden pain, but was nodding again a moment later. "Yes. Please, yes."

"You really want a wild animal biting your neck and snarling at you, while he pounds your gorgeous body?" he teased.

I literally swooned in delight. "Sounds perfect." I couldn't wait another moment for it. "Enough teasing, fuck me already."

He just chuckled in my ear. "No, I think I'll tease you a while longer. You sound so hot, begging me like that. In fact, maybe all I'll do is tease you."

"Evil man," I grumbled, hatching evil plans of my own. I started wriggling out from under him, knowing just what to say to make him stop me. "If you don't wanna fuck me, there's someone next door who's always offering to -" My threat had exactly the effect I'd hoped, and before I could finish speaking, his arms were so tight around me, they forced all the air from my lungs in a rush as jealousy surged through him.

"NO!" he roared in my ear, holding me to him like he was never going to let me go. "You're mine."

"Yes," I arched my back enthusiastically, giving him easy access to my wet heat. "Please claim me, my tiger."

"Oh, fuck," he groaned, trying to regain control of himself. He was unconsciously twisting my nipples back and forth, like my body was one of those executive stress toys people use to squeeze and pinch out their frustration. It was deliciously painful, making me drip for him.

"Fuck me, please fuck me now, please John," I babbled, squirming in his arms.

"Mmmm, I'm going to," he assured me, calmer now. "Do you want me to fuck you as hard as I can? Not hold back at all?"

"Please," I breathed, dizzy at the thought of how forceful that would be.

"Then stay still and silent while I get you ready for me. Be good, and I'll fuck you so hard..."

I gasped and nodded, hoping I could manage to be 'good' enough to earn the rough, possessive fucking I craved so deeply.

"Good girl," he repeated, and the patronizing tone of voice he used made me tingle deep between my legs.

I stilled myself immediately and bit my tongue to keep silent for him. As soon as I did, his fingers were tracing my swollen lips, spreading moisture wherever we might need it. I wanted to whimper and moan and buck against him, but I made myself do as he asked. It was oddly arousing, staying quiet for him. It was like he was claiming me already, making me come for him silently before he let me scream his name while he rode me hard.

His finger slid inside me, rubbing the spots I liked best, and I had to bite my tongue harder to keep from crying out. He was moving down my body now, his chest no longer against my back. I felt sure I was ready for him to fuck me, but if he wanted me even wetter and more relaxed, who was I to argue? A moment later his teeth found the round cushions of my ass and nipped them all over. I knew the harder bites would leave marks, and that excited me even more.

He massaged me with just one finger for a while, then added a second and eventually a third. He was using his hand to stretch me open for him, and it was all I could do to keep from moaning or thrusting my hips back onto his hand.

"You smell amazing," he told me, then ran his prickly tongue along my lips for the first time. "And you taste even better."

His mouth found my hard little nub then, sucking and nibbling as I fought to stay still. He wrapped an arm around my legs and held me tight, his other hand still massaging me open. Then he slid a fourth finger inside me and I was seeing stars.

His hand was sliding deeper and deeper into me, and it was all I could do to keep from screaming in delight. And then, just when I thought it couldn't get any better, he pushed a little harder. The irregular bumps of his knuckles were right at my entrance, causing sensations I'd never felt before; sensations so intense I almost forgot to breathe. My eyes rolled back in my head and my breath came in pants; I was so close to coming my legs were trembling. He kept his fingers inside me and wriggled them, creating even more incredible sensation. Then his thumb pressed against my tighter, smaller opening and I couldn't help but gasp. He sucked my clit even harder, and fireworks went off behind my eyes. My body pumped and pulsed around him, pleasure rolling through me in wave after wave, but I stayed still and silent as he asked.

"Say it," he demanded, giving me permission to speak again.

I opened my mouth but a ragged scream was all that came out; I was still coming so I couldn't form a single coherent word. He pulled his hand out of me and stood up quickly, grabbing my breast roughly with his slippery fingers as my climax ended.

"Say it," he demanded again, more desperately this time. "Please, babe, say it."

He was pushing against my entrance now, and I badly wanted him to bury himself inside me, to claim me roughly and make me his. I pulled myself together as best I could, trying to concentrate. I knew that all I had to do was ask and he would fill me.

"Please, John," I begged. When he didn't take me, I knew I hadn't said the right thing yet. "Fuck me," I tried, but that wasn't it either. "Claim me," also didn't work, but I felt him almost lose it then. I was close. "I'm yours," I whimpered.

With that, he was all the way inside me in a single hard thrust, tiger-sized and enormous. It was heaven and hell all at once, pleasure and pain, love and violence. Perfect. I cried out loudly and he stilled himself inside me, letting my body adjust to him. After a few uncomfortable seconds, I relaxed around him, and the pain faded into incredible pleasure. I sobbed and pushed my hips back onto him, trying to take him even deeper. He started moving again, thrusting into me so hard he made me tingle all the way to my teeth. His hand/paws tugged my nipples to make me slam onto him even harder, and the contrast of soft fur against tormented breast was wonderful. I felt another climax building inside me, getting closer every time he banged against my womb.

Without breaking his rhythm, he leaned over and bit my neck, pressing tiger fur all against my back.

"Mine," he panted, as possessive as any vampire but fives times as loving.

I arched my back and he was even deeper inside me. "Yes," I gasped. "Yours."

"Then come when I tell you to," he commanded, twirling my nipples in his tight furry grasp.

"Yes," I gasped again, right on the edge of an explosive climax. I had been close already, but the idea of coming at his command turned me on so much I was having to hold back now, waiting patiently for him to give me permission.

"Sookie," he whispered in my ear. "My woman, my mate. You're mine and I love you. Come for me beautiful. I'm all yours."

I screamed as another sensational orgasm tore through my body, knocking the breath from my lungs and the sense from my mind. He didn't let up for a second, slamming into me with unrelenting force that drew my pleasure out, making me climax again whenever my body tried to come down from its high. He kept me there for as long as he could, so I would feel no pain as his claws raked my body, leaving me covered in the fine scratches shifters traditionally drew on their new mate's skin. How he could fuck me so hard and mark me so gently, I wasn't sure, but I loved that he cared enough to do it this way.

Finally, when I could feel most of my skin tingling with his shallow scratches, I decided it was time for him to finish - and I knew exactly what he needed to get there.

"My tiger," I whimpered. "All mine. Love you John."

Then he was roaring, sounding every bit the tiger he was as he slammed deep inside me one last time. I felt him fill me with his come, even hotter than the rest of him, and he pulled me over the edge again, his pleasure becoming mine. He collapsed on top of me, shaking from the overwhelming sensations.

We stayed like that for a couple of minutes, draped over the side of the bed. I expected him to soften inside me and slide out, but he didn't. I could tell that he needed me again; that when a tiger claimed his mate, it wasn't over quickly. I reached up to touch my neck, but was disappointed to feel my skin still intact.

"You didn't mark me," I realized, feeling something tear in my chest, knowing I had offered myself and not been taken. "Don't you want -"

He nipped my neck again, immediately silencing me. "This," he rumbled in my ear, tugging my nipples to make me twitch around him, "is too important to rush. We're gonna do this right."

I was about to ask what 'doing this right' entailed, when he abruptly pulled out of me, making me whimper in disappointment. He sat right beside me on the edge of the bed, and when I looked up at him, all he said was, "Come here." I grinned and licked my lips, loving how bossy he was being. I crawled into his lap immediately, admiring his fangs, tail and tiger fur. He was so beautiful like this; part-man, part-tiger. And so big. I knelt over him, positioning him right at my entrance so he could take me again whenever he wanted. Then, for a long moment, I was just staring into his gorgeous slanted amber eyes, waiting for him to command me. He grinned back, loving the extra-willing look on my face.

"Sit down," he rumbled at last, finally giving me what I wanted so much.

I did my best to take him all the way inside me in a single smooth movement, but that was easier said than done. He wrapped one arm around my waist and brought his other thumb to my nub, rubbing me to make me relax as he pressed me all the way onto him. I squirmed in his arms, pretending to struggle, but I couldn't stop grinning long enough to be at all convincing. I loved that over-full feeling, when he made my body stretch just a little faster than it wanted to, so I'd fully feel his size. Then he was all the way inside me again, grinding me against him as his other hand found it's way into my hair, so he could hold me still as he claimed my mouth as well. He kissed me possessively for minute after minute, his tongue almost as deep inside me as his cock, toying with my aching, dripping body. Then, at last, my body fully relaxed, opening to him completely, so it offered absolutely no resistance to him being inside me.

When he pulled away from my lips I stared at him wide-eyed and slack-jawed, desperate to give him any pleasure he could ask.

"Good girl," he purred possessively, and a thrill ran through me simply because I pleased him. He liked me all wet and open and willing, I could feel that. "Now you're ready for me to claim you."

"Please," I begged, baring my neck to him as much as I could with his hand in my hair holding my head still.

He chuckled and turned my head the other way, guiding me to the scars on his neck. As soon as he let go of my hair, I started kissing them, flinging my arms around him to hold him to me. "Mine, mine, mine," I murmured, savoring the feelings that rolled through him as I did. Belonging, surrender, absolute love... this man was all mine, proudly wearing the marks that showed the world he belonged to me.

"You're gonna feel like this, too," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion, "by the time I'm done with you tonight, you'll be all mine." He needed me to know that the exact feelings I could sense from him right now, would soon be mine as well.

"Oh, yes," was all I could say to that. "God, yes. Please, yes." I was still offering my neck to him, and if he'd just bite down...

He gave an almost-evil chuckle. "Mmmm, keep begging, beautiful. I love hearing you plead like that."

"No, please," I begged, "please bite me, John. I'm all yours. Please." I wriggled on his cock, so aroused I had to do something.

He chuckled again. "I want to feel how much you want to be mine," he whispered to me. "I don't just want you to offer... I don't just want you to beg me for it... I want you to _make me_ claim you. I want to tease you 'til you can't wait a moment longer, and you force my fangs into your neck..."

I thought about it for only an instant, and my body exploded in overwhelming pleasure, milking his cock as I ground myself against him. I moaned for him, feeling my body mold to him, becoming more and more his even before he claimed me.

"Does thinking about my fangs in your neck make you come, beautiful?" he asked as I kept on twitching around him.

I shook my head. "The mark," I gasped, feeling my pleasure soar again at the thought of it. "Your mark."

He started licking and nibbling my neck, teasing me mercilessly with nips so hard I felt sure he was about to give me what I wanted, but always pulling back at the last instant. Every time he did it, a series of pleas escaped my lips as I begged him to claim me. I was squirming wildly now, writhing on his cock as he held me all the way down onto him, knowing I couldn't last much longer.

"Please," I almost sobbed. "Please, tell me I've begged enough. Please, fuck me and claim me. John, _please_."

He grinned at the wild look in my eye, then kissed me so sweetly I would almost have forgiven him for making me beg so much... except I could 'hear' him planning new torment for me, even as he gently satisfied my lips. My whole body shivered in arousal, loving the things he did to me. The more he made me beg, the wetter and hungrier I got, so when he finally pounded me, it would be nothing but joy.

He effortlessly stood up, using his arm around my waist to keep me to him. He was showing off his strength now, just like I wanted him to, and when he wedged me tightly against my bedroom wall, using his entire body weight to pin me there, I almost came again. I was still completely open to him, my body welcoming him all the way inside me, needing a deep hard pounding that would leave me tender for days.

He just kissed me though, and I finally realized how serious he was. In his fantasies, marking me was always my idea, with my teeth in his neck as his fangs were in mine, and me insisting he take that final step to make me irrevocably his. I shifted into fairy form and grinned at him, running my tongue over my sharp little teeth to make him look at them. As soon as I did, he thought of the feel of them in his neck, and his patience ran out. He hooked one of my legs over his arm, then the other, putting each hand on my waist as soon as he was done, to hold me up. Then he leaned right in again, pressing his furry chest to my breasts, his spreading elbows forcing my legs wide apart. In fairy form I was more flexible than in human, so my body easily went where he wanted it.

Held like this, the only part of my body I could move was my arms. My chest and legs were pinned, so there was nothing I could do but take him deeply, powerless to do anything but feel him inside me. I looked up into his eyes and smiled, loving what he was doing to me. Claiming a mate involved asserting dominance over them, taking complete control of their body and showing them how great it would feel to be yours... but having my wrists restrained was still something I found hard to handle, so he'd chosen to restrain all but my arms. If there'd been any part of me that wanted to fight this, I could, but my arms just wrapped around him and held him to me.

I was staring right into his eyes as he slowly, sensually pulled out of me, his chest still pinning mine to the wall. I couldn't move at all, and his power over my body was magnificent. He stopped just before his head would slide free, pausing to stare at me.

"Oh God, John, please," I panted. "Fuck me and bite me, please fuck me and bite -"

He slid back into me before I could finish begging, and my words turned into raw sounds of passion, more animal than human. When he was all the way inside me again, he ground against my nub three times, making his cock move within me. I moaned loudly, sounding even more desperate as he slid out of me again. It was torture-fucking, what he was doing to me, tormenting me with all the exquisite sensations he could create in me, never letting me have any of them long enough or intensely enough to get off. I could feel beads of sweat rolling down my body at the sheer exertion of not coming yet, but he just kept on tormenting me. I loved every second of it.

Then I had a really wicked idea. "Rub my clit with your tail?" I begged.

He stared at me in disbelief for a long moment, wondering if I could really be that OK with his tiger parts.

"_Please_," I added, squirming on his cock as he pressed me against the wall. "John, please."

The tip of his tail was flicking back and forth across my nub a moment later, the soft silky fur causing the most delectable sensation each time it brushed against me, while he stared at my face to make sure I was really OK with it. I was more than OK with it; I moaned and trembled, completely beyond words as pleasure surged through me once more. He saw how close I was and kissed me, then started fucking me slowly again, so I'd feel every inch of him slowly sliding in and out of me. It took barely a minute of that for me to scream his name once more, my whole body shaking as my eyes rolled back in my head in ecstasy.

As soon as he felt me coming, he started slamming into me, fucking me hard as he pinned me helplessly to the wall, so I wouldn't be able to come down from my high. For a few fabulous minutes, my body simply trembled in pleasure, as I clung to him and stared at him, delighting in the things he could do to me. I had found a place of complete receptivity, giving myself to him more thoroughly than I ever had before - with anyone. It was only when he slowly brought me down from that high that I could even think of anything else.

"Who do you belong to?" he asked me gently, feeling how overwhelmed I was.

"Yours," I gasped. "I'm yours." I was too high on the pleasure he gave me to make any sense, but he knew what I meant: I belonged to him.

He nuzzled into my neck, finding the exact spot where he wanted to mark me, just as my fairy teeth brushed his scars. He kissed me there as he gently fucked and stroked me to one last wonderful climax, silently telling me that the moment I got there, I would be his for as long as I lived... and 'hearing' that, I couldn't hold back a second longer. I slid my teeth into his scars, and in an instant, he was there too. He sunk his fangs into my neck far harder than he meant to, muffling him as he growled, "Mine," while I felt him coming inside me as he drank from my neck.

In that instant, something that had long been closed opened up inside me, making me finally feel whole again. I _belonged_ again, at last; belonged to him. An instant later, I felt that wave of surrender I had sensed him feeling so many times, and suddenly understood its importance. We had each chosen to belong to the other, and that meant giving up self-interest to put one another first. I willingly shed the urge to fight for my own needs above his, knowing he would gladly give me anything I needed - and never take what he needed at my expense. I now knew why it was so important this be balanced; I could only imagine the harm it would cause, if one partner stayed separate while the other gave themselves over completely. And then, all I felt was love: love for him, love from him...

My body simply wouldn't stop coming, so I pressed a hand to the base of his spine and shared it with him. His knees went weak and we slid down the wall until he was kneeling with me in his lap, as we tenderly licked each other's necks clean. Then we just clung to each other, feeling how deeply we each belonged to the other now. It was perfect: our balance restored at the instant I gave myself to him, to equalize the offering I received when he gave himself to me.

"My mate," I murmured in his ear, acknowledging what he now was to me with a huge smile plastered on my face.

He purred loudly, holding me tight, silently sharing how much that meant to him.

We shifted back to human form and kissed for so long that he fully softened inside me, then slowly hardened again as the feel of my body against his and the sound of my happy little noises turned him on once more. He pulled away just far enough to look me in the eye, saw my soft, willing smile, and pressed me against the wall again, still on his knees. He paused for a moment to see if I had any objections, but of course I didn't, so he made love to me once more up against my bedroom wall, as sweetly and tenderly as he ever had. It was perfect, being pinned in place and romanced completely; the ultimate demonstration of what his new claim over me meant to him: I was still his to love and cherish, not his to command.

I lost count of my orgasms, and when he finally finished inside me, I felt the best I ever had.

It was a long while before either of us could move, but when we finally did, he arranged me in his arms and moved me back up to my bed, tenderly tucking me in as he curled himself around me.

"I love you so much," I sleepily murmured.

"I love you too," he replied, then reached over me for the ring box I'd placed on my nightstand earlier that evening, because after seeing that ring with my own eyes, I couldn't bear to let it out of my sight.

"Now?" I asked excitedly, suddenly wide awake again. "Now?" I rolled over in his arms to face him.

"Now," he grinned, thrilled to see me reacting so happily.


	53. Complete

I was lying in bed with Quinn, watching excitedly as he opened the leather-bound box, so tiny in his huge hands, and took out the contents.

"Marry me?" he asked softly, knowing that was what humans said when they did this. He felt weird saying it, though, because as far as he was concerned, he'd 'married' me days ago (twice) and I'd 'married' him that evening. "Let's have a human ceremony as well?"

I nodded enthusiastically, happy tears running across my face to my pillow.

He went to take my right hand, but I laughed, shook my head and gave him the left one instead. Then I curled in all but my ring finger, because in his excitement, he'd forgotten how the human customs worked. He could perform a mating ceremony for any species of shifter, a vampire blood bonding or marriage, or the equivalents for demons, elves and a dozen types of fae in his sleep, but he found human customs convoluted and confusing. He laughed at his own mistake, then slid the ring on the correct finger.

I watched as he gently put it on me, delighting in how perfectly he had chosen. The pale yellow diamond looked like sunshine in the daylight, but at night, it glowed like the gorgeous amber eyes he had when he was in tiger form. I knew from Angela Barclay's thoughts that it was cut differently to normal, so any light it caught would bounce around inside it and make it light up softly, instead of flashing like a neon sign. It was a delicate, pretty stone, and the few tiny white diamonds on either side of it directed just enough extra light into it to keep it glowing even now, in dim lamp-light. The ring was stunning; simple and elegant, but also unusual and personal. It was expensive, I knew that, but as quiet about its own price as a diamond almost as wide as my finger could be. It helped that it sat lower down than usual, so it was close to my finger rather than sticking out into the air; it wasn't designed to draw attention to itself from a distance.

"Beautiful," I whispered.

"Uh-huh," he agreed, but he was looking at me, not the ring.

I leaned over and kissed him, and for the next few minutes, all we did was cuddle and smooch.

"So that's a yes, then?" he teased, when we finally came up for air.

"Yes," I beamed, as I looked at the ring on my finger again, turning it this way and that to catch the light.

He watched me intently. "It does look gorgeous on you. I don't really get the human traditions, but it does look pretty on your hand."

"Thanks," I grinned some more. "Speaking of human traditions... if a normal human wedding won't be meaningful to you, we can work out something that is."

"Why?" He looked genuinely puzzled. "Isn't the way this works... um, I turn up and do as I'm told? I thought it was traditional that human women are the boss of these things. It's a rite of passage for the man to prove tolerance and obedience, isn't it?"

I almost took offense, but thinking of some of Bon Temps' more difficult brides, I burst out laughing instead.

"It's 'your big day', right?" he checked. "I'm just expected to be a good accessory, or something?"

I shook my head. "I know that's how a lot of human weddings turn out, but you're marrying a telepath," I reminded him. "I'll know whether it feels meaningful to you or not, and it would spoil it for me if you were just going through the motions. So I guess we have to work out some kind of compromise. No church, for a start, because I know how uncomfortable the place makes you" - I'd dragged him along with me the last couple of times I'd gone - "but I'd still like Father Andrews to marry us."

"I liked the younger priest more," he admitted, "he seemed more open-minded about people who are different."

"Father Medina? He only just joined our parish and I don't really know him yet... I guess I could get to know him, though. Father Andrews did think some awful stuff about me when I was dating Bill, it would be hard if I 'heard' him thinking things like that on my wedding day."

"The only other thing I don't think I could stand is the veil," he confessed. "It's you I want to be with, not some random bride-shaped person. I know you'll be all kinds of covered-up then, but hiding your face is a step too far for me. I know who I'm getting, if I didn't I wouldn't be there."

I thought about it for a moment, and realized that was a compromise I could make. "OK," I agreed. "I'm having my white dress though. I know you find the whole symbolic virginity thing sick, but we both know I'm not actually a virgin, so you can deal with it. And I can't think of anyone who's still alive and in this world who I'd want to give me away, so maybe I'll let go of that one, too... I'm not sure yet." I knew exactly which parts of the human traditions he objected to; I'd 'heard' it all as he decided which ones he'd actually mention to me.

"OK, symbolic virginity it is," he rolled his eyes, "but you won't stay a symbolic virgin for long, with me around."

"I wouldn't expect anything less," I laughed. "We can do some naked celebrating too, but just the two of us." We both knew I wasn't referring specifically to sex; shifters did all kinds of things buck naked, including _everything_ to do with becoming mated.

"Sounds good." He slid the bed sheets down to my waist as he kissed me again, his hands wandering all over my newly-exposed skin - which was even more sensitive for all the fine scratches he had made on it while he claimed me mere minutes beforehand.

"You are so great at that," I praised him a few minutes later, high on the pleasure his fingers were creating.

"I'm not the smartest guy around, but I do know that the better it feels when I touch your breasts, the more I'll get to touch 'em," he grinned, his finger tracing a scratch that went just past my nipple.

"Mmmm, every second of every day," I purred, "that's how good it feels."

He beamed at me and wisecracked: "So my evil plan is working, then."

I just giggled and let him play a while longer, reveling in his attentions. I was in an odd frame of mind: I wanted him to have me any way he chose, and I felt like even if he wanted to do something that would hurt me, I would still love every second of it, just watching him enjoy himself. I was his now, I realized - and I suddenly understood why he'd begged me to take him any way I wanted, so many times. I placed my hands over his as he played with my breasts and murmured the words, "Yours... all yours," a few times as he played with them.

Watching him, I could feel his love for me. I knew he would never knowingly abuse the trust I had placed in him, and tears ran down my face. There was something else I needed from him: a deeper and more permanent commitment than anything we'd already exchanged.

"I need more," I whispered.

"I thought you'd never ask," he grinned as he started kissing his way down my body. "Happy tears?" he double-checked.

I nodded, wondering whether I should interrupt; I hadn't actually been asking for more sex, for once.

But then his tongue ran along my lips again, and my mind was suddenly made up: if he wanted one more serve of Sookie juice before we went on, he could have all he wanted. I was all his, after all.

"It's so nice of you to do that all the time," I thanked him, as his tongue teased me.

"Why?" He looked up at me in confusion. "I don't just do it for you. The smell and taste of a turned-on woman... there ain't much better than that." He suddenly thought of one thing that was, and gave me a wicked look. Then I was on my back and his tongue was all the way inside me, shifting into his true form as I watched. He could probe me more deeply than anyone ever had, like this, and I was soon writhing and moaning as he tormented every tender spot inside me, loving my taste even more than usual. I 'heard' that the taste of his turned-on mate was far better than any other woman, especially when we'd had sex so many times recently, and he could taste himself all through my well-loved body_._

I grinned at him, loving how natural and pleasurable everything was with him. He sure didn't think I was in any way soiled by his attentions; heck, even the fact that I'd been with other men before I met him seemed somehow right to him.

He 'overheard' without me meaning to project, and winked at me. _The only men who prefer virgins, are the ones who are so insecure about their own abilities, they can't stand you having anyone to compare them to. It's far more fun to be with someone who knows what they like._

I didn't manage any response to that; his now-furry hands had found their way back to my breasts, and with his tongue still inside me, he'd started rubbing the tip of his nose against my nub, soaking himself in my scent as I writhed and screamed. I lay back and basked in his talented attentions, feeling pleasure well inside me until it overflowed once more... and when he kept me going past those few seconds of excruciating tenderness and pressed on, it wasn't long before I was yelling his name again, my thighs clamped so tight around his ears he probably didn't hear it at all. Then my legs flopped open again, as I lay limp and happy on the bed.

I tugged on his ear, and he took my hint to crawl back up my body and kiss me. He tasted wonderful: like his juices and my juices all mixed together. It wasn't something I expected to find hot, the flavor of our many couplings, but it was a pleasant surprise to enjoy it so much. I shifted into my fairy form and scraped my teeth on each of our lips, then kissed him again to mix our blood together as well.

"Fuck, that's good," he moaned against my lips. "Feels as good as coming, when you do that."

"I can make it even better," I promised, rolling onto my side so we were face-to-face. "If we bond the way fairies do..."

He stared at me in confusion. "You've marked me, I'm yours."

I shook my head. "You're a _lennán_ to me," I used the fairy word for beloved and lover, carefully pronouncing the long 'a' sound. "I want you as my _núachar,_" I tried to get the aspirated 'h' sound right. It was the fairy word for 'mate', but also one of their words for spouse. I wasn't sure how I knew either word, but I was getting used to just knowing helpful fairy stuff I'd never actually learned or heard before.

"Is that even possible?" He stared at me wide-eyed. "I'm really flattered, but I'm pretty sure lower beings can't -"

"You've taken my blood while I was in my true form twice today. I've transferred enough of my fairy magic to you, that if you want to do that, we can. It's up to you though, and if you need some time to think about it -"

"Yes," he interrupted, his voice hoarse with emotion. "My answer is yes. Of course it's yes. You can really do this?" He had that overawed, 'OMG my mate is a fairy princess' look on his face again - and as always, the strength of my new powers was turning him on.

"_We_ can do this," I corrected. "You know how fairy bonding stuff works, it has to be completely mutual... if you want this as much as I do, we can make this happen."

He nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. He was amazed I would even offer this: fairies formed one kind of bond with each other, but a different type if their lover was of another species. A _lennán_ wasn't an equal; they never could and never would have the power over their fairy mate that their mate had over them. He'd assumed it was the only kind of bond we would be able to form, and had been genuinely thrilled when I had marked him and bonded him as, what amounts to an especially treasured slave. To even think of being more than that to me made happy tears spring to the corners of his eyes, because he wanted so much for me to be his, just as he was mine.

I pressed my hands to his face and shared my feelings for him, so he'd know how deeply I loved him. He opened himself right up to me in turn, and that deep connection we'd figured out how to create that morning formed between us again, this time almost instantly. We stared into one another's eyes and simply soaked in each other's love for a while, basking in the mutuality of our feelings.

I hadn't understood why he'd been so thrilled when I took ownership of him by biting him, wondering why anyone would want to be owned by another. I hadn't even fully understood why feeling how that made him feel made me crave the same feeling myself. Now, experiencing the limited ownership a shifter had over their mate, I had to belong to him in every way I could. I had claimed and then marked him, so he was mine in the customs of both shifters and fairies; he had marked and was now going to bond with me. The symmetry of it was important - there was no way I would give anyone such power over me unless they were willing to reciprocate - but that was a requisite and not a reason for doing this. Even the universal desire to feel like you belong somewhere wasn't my main reason for wanting this any more.

I wanted this because there was such power and beauty in giving myself over completely to him; in placing my whole self in his hands and trusting him to treasure my gift. I was putting his happiness first by letting him have me in any way he desired, but there was no sacrifice in that: it brought me such joy to see him happy, I felt like I was the one receiving a gift. The state of complete openness I was still in was the greatest bliss I had ever known; something that transcended all those tiny emotions that usually passed for happiness.

_You get it now_. His mind was flooded with pleasure and he was beaming at me, delighted that I finally understood why he had wanted so much to be mine, and why it had brought him such joy to be claimed and then marked by me.

That knowledge pulled us even closer together, and suddenly I didn't need my hands against his face to share my thoughts with him. We lay smiling, running fingertips over each other's skin as we felt that joining strengthen and hold, simply because we each now had enough fairy magic running through our veins to make our will reality.

There was something profound taking place between us; something that went much deeper than a simple telepathic connection. The shifter bonding ceremonies we'd carried out, and even the ceremony fairies used to mark someone of another species as a mate, were all about creating a tangible, physical connection between two people; bonds that were obvious to all species. But when fairies bonded with each other, the physical world was largely irrelevant; they joined at the deepest spiritual level... but oddly, to create that spiritual connection, two people had to be joined physically.

'Hearing' that, he kissed me sweetly, then wriggled in even closer, pulling my top leg up to rest on his hip. He rubbed the very tip of himself along my wet, swollen lips a few times, staring into my eyes to see when I was ready. _Mmmm... now_, I silently encouraged him, and he gently found his way into me. There was no urgency in it though, so he simply held my hip and rocked us gently back and forth. It created only small, sweet movements within me, but that was somehow perfect; the sexual stimulation wasn't the reason we were doing this.

I shifted into my true form, and immediately, I felt all my energy swirl into my heart, and then a bright glowing orb started emerging from my chest. I gasped in shock, pulling my chest back from his so I could watch what happened. Then I reached over to put my hand to his chest, and felt something similar gather against my palm. As I gently withdrew my hand, an orb came out of his chest, too. I could feel that they were both pure energy, and that even though they looked similar, they were fundamentally different in character: mine with far stronger magic, his with animal as well as human energy.

When the two orbs touched, we both immediately knew why we had to be physically joined: when your ethereal being - what humans would call a soul - is taken partway from your own body and partway into someone else's, you have to keep your bodies joined or it all goes horribly wrong. We watched as the two orbs vibrated right next to each other, bouncing off each other when they touched, but too attracted to make it any distance apart before they were pulled back together again.

I silently checked that he was sure about this, and he responded with a huge smile and an enthusiastic nod. I could feel that he knew the significance of this even more than I did, and it was still an easy choice for him: he wanted me, and he wanted this. I had to have that confirmation, because the last time I formed a magical bond with someone, we had both been forced into it and it didn't work out well. The scars of that experience were visible on the orb of energy extending partway out of my chest: there was what looked like an impact mark faintly visible on one side, with hairline cracks crazing a large area around it.

Neither of us had perfect, unscarred ethereal beings; we each had the color variations that showed a person had been affected deeply by their life experiences. But each time the two touched, some of the darker patches lit up, so they almost matched the unscarred areas. Clearly, there were deep hurts we could each heal for the other, if we chose to offer each other that help. I knew we would.

Sensing it was time, I uttered the three words that made up the entire fairy bonding ceremony; the vow a fairy made to their beloved.

_"Taí tar trembith_," I proudly declared, my voice a shaky whisper because I was so overwhelmed by emotion. 'Yours for eternity', it meant.

_"Taí tar trembith_," he murmured back, having felt exactly what those words meant when I said them. His eyes were full of unshed tears.

As soon as we each said it, I willed the two orbs to connect, and when he joined me in willing the same thing an instant later, they did. As they touched, they stuck together at a single point, and energy surged through my body like I'd just stuck a fork in an electric outlet. We both just stared, watching as the join slowly grew and more and more of my fiancé became part of me. It was an exhilarating feeling, like gaining a whole new 'mini me' as part of myself, albeit one which had all his attributes. I immediately loved the new corner of myself that was all him, and was delighted to feel those same emotions echoed in his own thoughts, treasuring the parts of me that were now part of him.

As the join got bigger, we had to move nearer together so the two orbs could keep melding. We both somehow knew that letting any more than a tenth of our ethereal being extend outside our body would be fatal, so the more they overlapped, the closer we had to get. Soon we were lying chest-to-chest, skin-to-skin, feeling so deeply joined neither of us could remember what it was like to be separate people; how lonely it must have been. We kissed and embraced, pressing ourselves as close together as we could. It felt heavenly... and very right.

It seemed like eternity we were joined like that, feeling different parts of ourselves bubble to the surface as the two orbs found points where they could join permanently. Surprisingly, it wasn't only the points where we were alike that could stay joined; even stronger links formed around attributes where we balanced each other perfectly, and even stronger again at the points where one of us could give the other something they were missing. I somehow knew that the bond we were forming was far larger and more complex than fairies usually formed; that it would be a great deal stronger than those already-powerful bonds; and that it would need to be, for a halfling and a weretiger to remain joined to each other like this. I also somehow knew that what we were doing was unprecedented; that fairies would never bond a member of another species as an equal like this, no matter how much they loved them.

Then it was done, and the two orbs separated and sunk back into our chests, then slowly unfurled to fill our whole bodies again, before gently extending just outside our skin, the way all normal living things' energy fields do. As physically close as we were, we were within the edges of each other's energy fields still, and that felt exactly right. Letting the bond settle properly was vital, and for now, that meant being so close literally nothing could get between us. He was still inside me, but coming wasn't on either of our minds yet: we'd just experienced something a thousand times as powerful as the average orgasm, and it had left us both very satisfied.

For the first ten minutes we were bonded, we simply lay in each other's arms and kissed, effortlessly 'hearing' everything on each other's minds. We could both feel the bond settling, adjusting the strength and tightness of each link between us so we could live as separate, strong individuals when we needed to, but also merge into a tightly bonded pair whenever we wished. It was perfect.

There was a buzzing in another corner of my mind, though, and little by little it got stronger, until finally it hammered away at the calm closeness I was savoring, disturbing my peace altogether. It was like I had two sets of feelings: one blissful, relaxed, connected, and loved; the other angry, frustrated, hurt and violent - but in the circumstances, I knew I was only feeling the first; I had no reason to be angry or frustrated by my mate, he had done nothing to hurt me, and I certainly didn't wish violence against him. (Well, unless clawing deep red marks into his back as we made love counted as violence, because I did feel like doing that again some time soon...)

He licked his lips at that last mental image, silently reminding me that I could be as 'violent' as I wanted with him; his pain threshold and healing abilities guaranteed I'd cause him no actual harm, and he got a huge thrill from seeing me get carried away and take selfish pleasure in his gorgeous body. Somehow, satisfying me satisfied him; my pleasure really was his pleasure, so he was genuinely happy to give me anything I wanted. I could feel that right now, with his mark still fresh on my neck, I could experience that same feeling our love-making brought out in him, and I wanted him to do anything he wanted to me.

Then I realized what those other feelings in the corner of my mind were... or rather, who they were.

Eric.

But when Quinn shrugged and kissed me again, I simply didn't care that Eric was furious with me. I was no longer his, and pleasing my new mate / fiancé / bonded was all that mattered.


	54. Ex

Quinn gently licked my neck as we lay in bed in each other's arms, letting our new bond settle properly. While the bite I left on his neck two days ago had healed instantly - or rather, the magical seed cells my fairy teeth left behind had rapidly grown into enough tissue to fill the holes they made, so some of me would permanently be part of him, linking us together - shifters didn't have the power to do that. Even the bite mark I'd left on his arm this morning was healing the usual way; that special fairy bite I'd left on his neck was a one-time deal.

I was in an odd mood that night: a mood induced partly by being newly mated and wanting to show my mate all the ways I was his as our bond settled... and partly by taking so much vampire blood earlier, which always made me extra-horny (and thankfully also gave me the endurance to handle it all). I knew my fiancé wanted to know and satisfy every sexual urge I had for as long as I lived, and figured now was a great time to start. I thought about it for a few moments, wondering what would feel most perfect tonight...

"Blindfold me?" I whispered in his ear, because it seemed like the best symbol of the complete trust I had in him.

He stopped licking my neck and kissed me instead, making my whole body tingle with the feel of his skin against mine. Every time I thought I was used to the sparks of magic that surged through our bodies when we touched, I would forget to brace for it, and the next time we touched I would be stunned by the intensity all over again. I moaned in joy at having him right next to me, ready to make love to me.

I pressed a hand to his face and showed him exactly what this meant to me: that I had never done it before; that it was as much trust as I was able to put in anyone right now; that I was symbolically giving him license to do anything he wanted to my helpless body. He pictured the type of soft, silky scarf he wanted to use on me, then I clicked my fingers and it was in his hand.

I got up onto my hands and knees and turned around, kneeling so he would be able to tie it around my head. A moment later, it was done. The fabric felt smooth and cool against my skin, but having my sight taken away was a shock; this wasn't like what we'd tried before, when I could simply open my eyes if it became too much. Sure, I could pull the scarf off with my hands, or use my outfit changing power to conjure it out of existence... but still, I felt intensely vulnerable. I couldn't help shivering as I waited for him.

"You smell turned on and terrified," he murmured in my ear, gently embracing me from behind. "I love you. I won't hurt you, I promise."

"I want you to hurt me," I whispered in the darkness, feeling oddly freed by it. "Push me past my limits, have me any way you want."

"What if I want to have you like this?" he teased, his hands working all over my front, caressing every tender scratched spot as his chest pressed against my back and his lips lingered on my shoulder. "What if this is what I need?" His fingertips stroked my inner thighs teasingly, following the thin lines where his claws had gently raked my body as he claimed me.

I pushed my legs wide apart as my head tipped back onto his shoulder, so thrilled by the feel of him touching me that I forgot what I'd asked for, simply soaking in the sensations he'd chosen to give me. I made little happy noises as he had his sweet, tender way with me... but already, I could feel he was just warming me up for other things. He was so hard against my backside, I hoped he'd hurry.

"That vampire blood you took," he rasped in my ear, "made the bruises here," he tweaked my nipples, "and here," he pressed his fingertips deeply into the flesh of my hips, "disappear. I don't like it. I like seeing my marks all over your beautiful body." His mouth found the new mark on my neck then, licking and nipping it until I was quivering jell-o in his talented hands.

"Bruise me again," I finally managed to gasp.

"Do you know how rough I'll have to be, to make these bruise you?" He pinched my nipples hard as he growled in my ear, clearly excited. He was right, he would have to be far rougher with his fingertips; it was mostly the suction of his mouth that had created those tender little bruises before.

"Please," I sighed, feeling my whole body relax back against him as I surrendered to him completely, ready to revel in his touch.

He obliged me happily, going to work on my soft, sensitive flesh with rapt enthusiasm, making me scream, pant and keen. He could sense my feelings enough to get it just right now: starting gently and working up to the extra-intense sensations, but always easing off when I needed a small break. I couldn't class anything he did as actual pain: every pinch, pull and twist felt wonderful. I moved only once, to trap his hard length underneath me so we could rub against each other. That was the moment he chose to start digging his fingernails in, making me drip all over his cock as I screamed for him, digging my own fingernails deep into his thighs to share the exquisite intensity.

Then he started nipping at the fresh new mark on my neck, and I was ready for him to do absolutely anything to me.

"Suck your nipple," he quietly commanded me. He'd seen me do it once before, and wanted to see it again now.

I obliged immediately, lifting my breast as high as I could, then dropping my mouth until the two almost met. I tried to line them up, which was harder than it sounds when I couldn't see what I was doing, until he tired of waiting and gave my nipple a sharp tug towards my waiting mouth. I cried out and wriggled on his hardness, then ran my tongue across the tortured bud to ease the ache slightly, before finally wrapping my mouth around it.

"I can't see a mark yet, beautiful. Suck harder." His eyes were all over me as I did; I could feel it. "Now bite," he added a while later.

I did exactly as he ordered, tormenting that tender pink peak mercilessly. My moans made the most marvelous vibrations, keeping me dripping the whole time I sucked. I did it harder and harder at his urging, pushing my body farther than it ever had been before... and just as it began to hurt, he surprised me by suddenly sliding two fingers inside me. I'd been so absorbed by the feel of my teeth on one nipple and his nails on the other, that I hadn't noticed his other hand move to my entrance. He had his hand turned around so he could put pressure on my favorite spot, and excited as I was, it didn't take long 'til I was right on edge.

He chuckled cruelly as he kept me on the brink, loving the feel of me tightening around his fingers as I prepared to come. Then, when I was barely an instant away, he said, "Stop," so firmly I didn't think to protest. He let go of my breast and I did the same, moaning in desperation. "You often bite down when you come," he explained. "Not a good thing to do when your nipple's in your mouth."

Then his fingers started working inside me, and I heard myself get louder and louder as he quickly brought me right back to the edge. I knew that he wouldn't let me come; that his game was about getting me right to the edge and keeping me there as long as possible. I didn't mind: he'd done this to me before, and I knew exactly how pleasurable it could be to hover on the edge of the abyss for hours.

"I want you on your knees and elbows," he decided aloud, "with your gorgeous backside right up in the air."

I moved instantly, just managing to keep my balance in the darkness. "Finger my ass," I begged without thinking. "Please, put your hands in me everywhere."

He chuckled and nipped my cheeks again, leaving a few more bite marks to remind me of this later. Then his tongue was tormenting my tightest opening while another finger slid into my wetness. With my face buried in the covers, I kept my knees far apart and wantonly soaked up his exquisite teasing, making loud happy noises so he knew how much I loved it. He'd kept me right on the brink the whole time, and I was almost vibrating with need.

When I finally felt him reach over for my nightstand drawer, he had to pull his fingers from me quickly to keep me coming right that second. He fiddled with things for a few seconds, getting himself ready to penetrate me that other way. Then, without warning, his fingers were back inside my pussy again, fucking me hard, just like before except using another finger or two. In under thirty seconds I was on edge again.

"Please, please let me come," I begged, my voice breaking with desperation. "Let me come for you, please John."

He pulled his fingers most of the way out of me again, and then I could feel him rotating his hand right at my entrance, using his fingertips to torment me. Then a slippery gloved finger sought entrance to me elsewhere. I moaned my delight, but my moan turned to a scream as I was suddenly full to bursting, with all the fingers that were in me before fucking me hard again, plus one extra that was completely still, waiting for my body to relax. It took under a minute of his expert fingering for my body to start trembling in impending orgasm again, and suddenly that extra intruder felt very welcome indeed. Of course, that was when he stopped.

"No," I moaned, as all those fingers slid out of me simultaneously. I only wanted him sliding out if he would immediately slide them all back in.

That wasn't his plan, though. He rotated both hands, tormenting both entrances, until suddenly I felt a second finger working into my backside. Realizing what he was about to do, I relaxed and pushed out the way Eric had taught me, opening myself to him.

"Mmmm, you're very eager," my boyfriend purred as his fingertip found its way in easily.

I got no chance to respond because an instant later, he was filling me again: two still fingers in my ass while he furiously fucked my dripping pussy with what must've been four fingers. He was such a talented man: the discomfort of stretching one entrance open so quickly was completely offset by that other delightful hand, bringing me back to the brink one more time. I needed to come so much that both sensations were driving me closer: it felt like being uncomfortable would get me there just as surely as his perfect firm rubbing of that wonderful spot inside me would. I was screaming from the intensity of it, my hips moving by themselves to encourage him. As I got closer and closer he eased off, keeping me right there, hovering on the edge of ecstasy, feeling all the joy of an intense orgasm, even if I wasn't quite there yet.

This time, he didn't stop; just pulled both hands almost out, and when I slammed my hips back onto them, three fingers were where there had previously been just two. He stayed still, forcing me to make the choice: if I wanted to keep going, I had to relax and open more than I ever had before. I hesitated for only a split-second, then bit my lip and pressed myself all the way back in one smooth, slow movement. I was so proud of myself, I just stayed there for a moment: he'd had three fingers inside me there before, but he'd never gotten them past the first knuckle. I was whimpering in pain though, because my backside was stretched so far it was burning. Realizing it hurt, he started skillfully massaging my sex and flicking my nub with his tongue, adding so much pleasure that my body started relaxing, and soon it all felt great.

He brought me right to the edge again, and this time, I wasn't unhappy when he slowed down to keep me there. I stayed stock-still, panting and moaning while he kept me trembling. It went on for minute after minute, my body afire with pleasure. Even without the blindfold, I wouldn't have been able to see a thing, because my eyes had rolled all the way back in my head.

"Ready to come now?" he finally whispered, when my body started gripping his fingers desperately again.

I raised my head to nod, and an instant later I was half-empty and his sopping fingers were tracing my lips, covering them with my juices. I eagerly drew them into my mouth, using my tongue to clean them as I sucked with abandon. I loved how literally he took my requests: hurting me, pushing me past my limits, putting his hands in me everywhere... when I felt him kneeling behind me, I sighed in happiness, knowing he would fuck me soon.

His head was right at my entrance, teasing me, while those three fingers wriggled inside my ass, keeping me right on edge. He rested his chest on my back for a moment, so he could whisper right in my ear again. "My mate," his tongue traced my ear tenderly, making my whole body tremble, "I could train your body to come whenever I slide inside you. Would you like that?"

I nodded again, not letting his fingers leave my mouth for a moment. With all four of them in there, it was a tight fit, but I loved being full of him... not to mention, tasting myself all over him. I moaned my pleasure once more, and suddenly his fingers were gone from my mouth. I went to complain, but a second later they were stroking my clit, and I was too busy screaming to complain.

"Now," I gasped, then realized I wanted something else first. "Wait, one more finger first. Please, John."

I was squirming with arousal, but he was suddenly stock still.

"Are you sure?" he asked, leaning over to murmur in my ear again. "It'll hurt if I do that."

"I know, I want that," I grinned. "Sometimes when it hurts... when it's the right hurt... I come so hard. Please, make me come that hard."

He was grinning, I could feel that; he knew exactly what I meant. He nibbled at my neck as he slid his fingers out just far enough for his little finger to tuck between them, silently ordering me to relax for him as his other hand strummed my clit to keep me squirming. I opened as far as I could for him, and with his fingertips bunched so tightly together, they slid in easily... but the deeper inside me they got, the more challenging it was to open myself for him. They were about two-thirds of the way in when my body started resisting completely.

"Deeper," I urged him on when he hesitated.

He worked for only a minute more, and his fingers were almost all the way inside me, stretching me so far open I was seeing stars. It hurt, but his talented thumb had found the perfect rhythm on my clit, and almost too soon, I was right on edge again. I wanted this to last, to be sure I'd come when he slid inside me. I'd 'heard' what he meant when he said it, and the idea of him training my body that way was immediately one of my biggest turn-ons. He would have me right on the edge of coming for ages the first few times, just like he'd done today, so the feel of him sliding inside me would be all it took to finish me off, and my body would start associating that sensation with deep, intense climaxes. Then he would slowly ease off: first reducing the time he kept me on edge beforehand, until he could get me to the brink, slide into me right away and feel me come; then getting me almost to the edge, until the feel of his cock would make me come if I was close; then slowly working back from there until he could get me wet enough to be inside me, and feel me come as soon as he was. I moaned again as I thought about it, wondering what other wonderful responses he could train into my body if I gave him free reign to make me his any way he wanted.

"Mmm, by the time I'm done with you," he promised, "so many things will make you wet... so many things will make you come..."

My whole body shivered in delight. "Please," I groaned, unsure if it was what he wanted to do to me now or later that turned me on more.

He gave my nub one last stroke, feeling me struggle not to climax instantly, then used that arm to take his weight as he bent over me, wanting to be as close to me as possible to feel what was about to happen. He was already lined up right at my entrance, ready to slide inside.

"Go," was all he said, and I pushed myself back onto him as hard as I could, getting him most of the way inside me in a single extra-hard thrust. I screamed as my whole body shook and shuddered, pleasure coursing through me... and just as I started to come down from my high, I gritted my teeth and forced myself back the last couple of inches. When he was all the way inside me, a howl tore from my throat as my body tried to milk him and failed, so full of fingers and cock it was only the muscles deepest inside me that moved - enough to make up for all the parts that couldn't move, as it turned out - which was so incredible I felt like I might faint.

The earth literally moved for me, that time... or the whole house did, anyway. It might've had something to do with the loud crash I half-heard, but I was coming too hard to care. By the time I regained my senses the house had almost stopped shaking, and since it hadn't collapsed on top of us, I decided I didn't care what had happened. We had spent so long slowly stretching my body to take all of him, that I wanted to take full advantage of my relaxed, accommodating state, now the discomfort was over and it all just felt great. There was a strange rumbling sound still, but as long as the roof hadn't fallen in yet, fucking was far more important than investigating those other noises.

But as soon as he felt me finish, my mate started easing from my body.

"You can't stop," I protested. "You can't tease me that long and only let me come twice! Fuck, please keep going, John. Please!"

"Sookie, we've got co-"

"I don't care," I whined. "Please, please keep fucking me. Please." I got up from my elbows to my hands and thrust back onto him, desperate for more. He let out a choked sound but didn't stop me, and in barely a dozen hard thrusts, I was there again. As I threw my head back and screamed my pleasure, that weird rumbling finally stopped.

An instant later, something snapped inside me. For a moment I felt like I was outside my own body, seeing myself there on my knees, my face flushed with pleasure, and all I could think was 'more'. The sounds that passed from my lips... the way my breasts swayed as I moved... that slippery, squelchy noise my body was making... it all seemed like the best thing ever. I had this weird sense that this was the hottest thing that'd happened to me in weeks, and I couldn't get enough of it. The need that surged through me then was far too much to resist, and after only a moment's fight, I gave in to it completely, somehow knowing I would be rewarded with pleasure beyond my wildest dreams if I just kept going.

Quinn tried to pull away again as soon as I was done though, apologetically saying, "You'll be so mad if I -"

I let out a pained groan. "Please don't stop," I begged again. "The rumbling stopped. Keep going, please keep going."

"I want to," he confessed. "God, I want to, but -"

I decided to try a different tack. "Just once more," I whispered. "Please, just once more."

He figured another few minutes wouldn't make things any worse than they already were, and decided to oblige me. It was all about me, though: he was carefully rubbing that spot I liked with every thrust, eager to get me off as fast as he could, figuring I'd be less angry with him later if he didn't draw this out. I couldn't work out why he thought I'd be mad at him for taking so long; I _loved_ his slow, thorough, take-all-day style - and had told him so repeatedly. If I wanted the job done fast, I'd fuck vampires. He 'heard' me clearly and chuckled, slowing down to the pace I loved best. Finally, I was getting what I really wanted: he was starting to enjoy himself too. I let go completely, making my reactions even louder and more enthusiastic - because the more I screamed, the more he got into fucking me again.

Then, I used my trump card. "Shift inside me," I pleaded. "Please, John, fuck me deeper." I heard him gasp and added, "I need all of you."

He let out a choked groan and leaned over me again, to tell me, "If I shift right now, I will do bad, bad things to you." He was reminding me what he was like in his true form; how little control he had over what he did and said.

"You promise?" I grinned, feeling how much he wanted me screaming for him, contorted in ecstasy as he drove my body to heights I'd never known before, proving once and for all that I was his. "Do that," I pleaded. "Do all of that. I'll come so hard for you, I promise."

He almost succeeded in holding back, but that last sentence undid him, and a moment later he stopped fucking me to stretch me from within as he took his true form.

I started screaming the word, "Yes," and then couldn't stop, saying it maybe a half-dozen times before I started coming, and then a few dozen more as he pushed me to peak after peak, rubbing his furry chest on my back as his prickly tongue licked the scar on my neck. I tried to bury my face in the covers to muffle my screams, but as I tried, he grunted and grabbed my hair, suddenly pulling me back to sit in his lap.

"No," he growled. "No hiding."

The change of position was putting even more pressure on that spot I loved, and I couldn't think of anything but coming again. We were both kneeling now, but with his legs outside mine my whole body weight bore down on his cock, creating the most exquisite pressure. As I started sliding up and down, he used his hand in my hair to tip my head right back, and then my mouth was full of his tongue again as he kissed me possessively. I moaned and he rewarded me by wriggling his fingers inside my ass, and with just a few short sharp bounces on him while my muscles held him tight, I was screaming my pleasure all over again. He stopped kissing me for a few seconds, and I could feel he did that because he didn't want his tongue muffling my screams, so I made even more noise than usual for him.

As I slowly came down from my high, he pulled my hair hard enough that I couldn't move any more. He was thinking how incredible my body looked like this, my breasts bouncing as I rode him, my sex completely exposed because he was behind me... I pushed my knees as far apart as I could, and once again my reward was fingers wriggling deep inside me, stoking those fires of need all over again.

"More," I gasped. "Fuck, more, please John. _Please_."

"Do you want to come again, beautiful?" he whispered in my ear, waiting until I nodded before he ordered me to, "Touch yourself."

I had one hand between my legs and the other tugging at my breasts in an instant, frantically pinching each nipple in turn. I felt like I was putting on a show for him, and that thought was turning me on far more than I ever expected it to. I writhed on his cock as my body flooded again, feeling his fingers move inside me. It drove me wild when he did that, pleasure surging through nerves that had felt it so rarely, making me feel more than my body could bear. He captured my mouth again then, kissing me hard to make this even better for me. In barely a minute, I got there again, and after that it was a blur of orgasms as he took full control of my body, sometimes letting me ride him, sometimes making me hold still and get myself off again.

"You're the best," I started babbling. "You're so great... so big... so great." Then I was screaming his name again, milking his cock once more.

He was being so possessive now, I couldn't help but come harder for him. My body was his to pleasure, and pleasure it he did, showing off exactly how many times he could make me come as I showed him exactly how much I loved it, screaming so loud my voice went hoarse. He wanted me to make a spectacle of myself, losing all control as he drove me to ever-greater heights of pleasure. Even when I started feeling sore, I still wanted him to keep going, but thankfully he had more sense. In the state I was in I would fuck him 'til I bled, not caring about my own weary body so long as I was pleasing my beloved.

"I love you," I gasped as we both slowed down, preparing for that one last spectacular orgasm - the best so far, because I would get to feel him coming with me, his pleasure flooding into my mind as I 'heard' him finish.

My words seemed to snap him out of his rough sex spell, and he released my hair to wrap his arm around my waist, kissing the mark on my neck as he did. He gently guided me down onto the bed so we lay on our sides, still locked together with his fingers inside me.

"Love you too," he gasped, needing to come so badly he could barely speak. "Love you so much."

His body was wrapped all around me, and we were each moving only our hips as we slowly brought each other to our final finish. I moved a hand back to stroke his high, firm ass, and he curled the arm that was underneath me up to tenderly cup one of my bruised breasts, as his lips made love to the fresh wound on my neck.

"Yours," I reminded him, right back on edge. "All yours."

"Oh, Sookie. I love you so, so much." His voice was hoarse with emotion again, and I could feel him bury his face in my hair.

"Love you too, John. Please... please come inside me... make me pregnant. Please."

I knew how hearing that would effect him, and even though that weird rumbling sound started up again for a few seconds, neither of us cared. We merged completely again, lost in a loop of mutual pleasure that simply wouldn't cut out. We were one being for the next few minutes, and the bliss we both felt was multiplied by being shared. Even when that feeling finally ebbed away, neither of us could move; we stayed curled together, needing that closeness as our new bond continued to settle.

"Sorry," he eventually murmured in my ear. "I shouldn't have done that."

I knew why he was apologizing now - I'd seen the source of the rumbling in his mind while we were joined - but I was still too high on pleasure to care. "Don't ever be sorry for fucking me like that," I purred. "That was so, so great."

I couldn't find it in me to be angry with him for what he'd just done; I knew he had no inherent sense of modesty, and if I was honest with myself, I loved that about him. He was so adorable when he wandered out of my bedroom stark naked, then remembered he had to wear clothes, came back to put on underwear, then strutted out as though his tiny shorts were a tuxedo and tails. And so hot, that he had no hang-ups about anything I might ever want, sexually. To turn around and get mad at him now would be completely hypocritical - especially because he'd tried so hard to do what I'd do in the circumstances, and I'd begged him to keep going instead.

I also knew that some small part of me had known exactly why he was trying to stop, and simply didn't care. I could blame him if I wanted, because he bit me and ordered me not to feel ashamed of anything I wanted that morning, but I knew deep down that that wasn't the real reason I decided to keep going... and because we'd just been joined, he knew it too.

I reached up and eased the blindfold away from my eyes slowly, pushing back my wildly matted mane as I did. After so long in complete darkness, even the dim lamplight was a shock to my eyes, and for a long moment all I did was blink. But as soon as I could see again, piercing blue eyes met mine. I expected a triumphant leer, because I told him only hours before that his stupid video was the closest he'd ever get to fucking me again, but he was already back in my bedroom watching me. Instead, to my shock, he wore the look people had when they were thinking, 'why did I ever let them go?' as they gazed at their ex; a look that said he would give anything to touch me again. I fought the corners of my mouth, which were trying to curl up in the kind of smile that would give away exactly how much I enjoyed that; how much it thrilled me that an ex who made so little effort to ever be with me while we were supposedly together, so clearly regretted not spending more time with me now.

We just looked at each other, and I knew that despite my best efforts to hide it, he could tell that I liked seeing him want me so much... so he kept staring at me with naked need, his eyes locked to mine despite my body being completely bare. I moved only slightly, to disentangle myself from my boyfriend, because it felt so wrong to look at my ex like that while he was still inside me. Quinn took the hint and gently slid his fingers from my body, causing a huge aftershock as the wonderful stretching pressure finally released. As the pleasure swept through me, I could feel Eric's eyes on mine, studying me.

For an instant all I wanted was to reach for him, my mind fogging with fantasies of both the beautiful men in my bedroom being inside me, filling me completely. When I opened my eyes again, I could see that he wouldn't refuse; that I could offer myself to him in any way and he would take me so gladly, so gratefully... my breath caught and silently, I was begging for exactly that.

Then I realized how wrong this whole situation was, and knew I had to do something to retain some small remnant of the modesty Gran had so carefully instilled in me...

"Go away Eric," I grumbled, trying to sound like I resented his presence. "Can't you tell when you're not wanted?"

"And miss that?" he retorted, his face suddenly blank, as though a door had slammed shut on me. "That was even more fun than listening to you this morning. You do put on an excellent show, _lover_." He leered at me indecently, his eyes roaming my body.

I huffed loudly and started getting out of my bed, planning to shoo him from my room like the unwelcome nuisance he was. I barely made it halfway up though, because as soon as I flicked my hair back over my shoulder, my ex started growling again. I'd reminded him why he was here, and my naked body was no longer enough to distract him. I was suddenly a foot off the ground, being held by my hair - which felt like it was going to tear from my scalp any moment, under my full body weight. Eric didn't seem to care about that though: he was studying the mark on my neck, looking more furious than I'd ever seen him.

"Put her down," Quinn ordered. "She didn't say you could do that."

"What have you done, Sookie?" Eric snarled as he dropped me back onto the bed, pushing me away from him. "What have you done?"

I knew he wouldn't like the answer.


	55. Damage

Eric was by far the angriest I had ever seen him; pacing around my bedroom with his fists and jaw tightly clenched, his eyes darting as though trying to spot something that could take the brunt of his temper. I knew why he was mad - he'd just seen the mark Quinn left on my neck, which meant I was now effectively his property, in Supe terms - but losing his prized telepath didn't give him the right to trash my house.

"Anything you break, you're gonna replace," I growled at him, hoping the financial costs would be enough to put him off.

They weren't.

As soon as I said it, he got that 'light bulb' look on his face - the one that for everyone else meant they'd just figured something out... and for him, invariably meant he'd just figured out how to get his own way about something.

"Fine," was all he said before he darted out of my room at a speed my eyes could barely follow.

I used the bond to feel where he had gone, then ran to my front porch to check what he was up to.

I thought I'd seen plenty of weird stuff since I met my first vampire, but none of that prepared me for the sight in front of me when I got there. _My car was sailing through the air_, towards the trees on the edge of the woods.

_Huh?_ I thought to myself. _How the hell... ?_

I watched in mute horror as my beloved car - the one Tara sold me for $1 after my old one was burned when one of Eric's lackeys tried to kill me - crashed into the trees, taking a few down with it as it crashed into the ground. It sounded exactly like an explosion, a deep rumbling complete with the sickening sounds of splintering wood, tearing metal and breaking glass, and the ground beneath my feet shook with the impact.

It was only when I crashed into something that I realized I'd been running after my car, trying to figure out something I could do to save it. I tried to dart around whatever it was that blocked my path, but it grabbed me and held me firmly with my arms pinned to my sides. I looked up at my fiancé, wondering what he was up to.

"There's nothing you can do," he murmured, keeping his arms wrapped around me even as I struggled to see around him. "I really need to teach you to run away from danger, not towards it."

"Good luck with that," I smiled up at him, as he finally released me. "My leg hurts," I then noticed, and when I looked down there was blood trickling from a wound halfway up my shin.

He picked me up Rhett-and-Scarlett style, so my leg was right by his face. I gingerly removed the twisted piece of metal that stuck out of it, and he started licking the wound carefully, using his prickly tongue to clean the wound and his shifter saliva to help it heal.

"You did that the first time we met," I murmured, watching him tend to my leg.

He gave me a soft, tender smile, and I could 'hear' him reminiscing, just like I was. It was only when he finished licking the wound and straightened his head up that I noticed I wasn't the only one injured.

"John," I dumbly asked, too shocked for my brain to work, "is that my windshield wiper sticking out the back of your shoulder?"

"Probably." He didn't seem at all bothered by that fact. "Gotta love shrapnel. Give me a hand pulling it all out?" He set me on my feet and guided me around him, so he wouldn't have to move.

When I saw the state he was in, my mouth dropped open in shock. "Oh, you poor thing!" I exclaimed.

"Babe, I've had worse," he chuckled. "I'm fine."

He'd already started pulling shrapnel out of his back himself: bits of tree and shards of glass, mostly, but also a few stray bits of metal. I could see that most of them were flesh wounds, but in a few places, there was just a hole where some small projectile had shot into his flesh. The entire back of his body was bloodied, and I realized I must've been moving fast, to get so close to my car in the few moments it was sailing through the air. Then I noticed he was using only his left hand to pull bits out of his back - because his right shoulder did indeed have the remains of one of my windshield wipers sticking out of it. I made a horrified noise as I reached up to touch him just beside the metal.

"Start with the smaller stuff," he instructed matter-of-factly. "I can reach most of it, but I can't exactly see what I'm doing. That one has to stay in a little longer."

"Why?" I squeaked in horror.

"To give the artery some time to heal. It'll be a real gusher otherwise."

He sounded perfectly calm, but that did nothing to reassure me; I was still close to panic. But then I 'heard' him wish his sister was here, because she'd get on with it without needing him to comfort _her_ while he bled all over the place. I saw in his memories that she'd been patching him up since she was a small child - that her interest in medicine and healing had started the first time she helped him stitch up a stab wound between his shoulder blades that he couldn't reach - and would deal with 'minor' injuries like this completely calmly. She had no 'bedside manner' to speak of, but she got on with the job and didn't fuss over him, which was all he wanted right now.

'Hearing' him wish someone else was here to care for him snapped me right out of my panic. He needed me now, and it was my job as his mate to care for him - not his sister's any more. I watched how he was easing pieces of shrapnel out of his skin, pulling them out as smoothly as he could to minimize the damage they did as they made their was through his flesh a second time. I picked a medium-sized splinter at the bottom of his rib cage and started pulling on it.

"Use your other hand to put pressure around the wound," he directed me, and once I did, the splinter came out quickly.

As soon as I started tending to his back, he was licking the back of his left shoulder - a feat of flexibility I was pretty sure wasn't humanly possibly - so his saliva could help the small wounds heal. I pulled out a few of the smaller bits of glass from his back as he did, quickly figuring out how to remove them as painlessly as possible... not that he seemed bothered by anything I did.

"You really need to start wearing clothes," I chided gently. "A leather jacket would've stopped most of this."

"Yeah, I should know I need protective gear to hang out with you by now," he joked. "Every time I take my clothes off, I end up covered in scratches."

I giggled and blushed, then watched him bend over in front of me, licking the wounds on the back of his calves as though that were a normal thing to be able to do. Maybe for someone with a full set of cat genes, it was? I hadn't realized exactly how flexible he was before, and with his gorgeous backside pointing at me, my mind wandered for a moment, thinking of other ways to use his supple body... but then I noticed a nasty bit of metal embedded in one of his luscious ass cheeks, and went back to work.

As I did, I realized he wasn't the only one who'd forgotten to put clothes on in the confusion. I quickly snapped my fingers, conjuring up the nondescript jeans-and-t-shirt combo I could now create without thinking. I heard a humph as I covered up and looked to my side, noticing Eric for the first time. His big grin was fading, but only slightly.

"There is no need for that," my ex leered. "You looked delectable, naked and dripping with shifter blood."

I rolled my eyes and ignored him. "We can do this inside," I suggested to my boyfriend. "I can clean you up better there."

"Moving's not so great like this," he told me, as he stiffly stood up again to demonstrate. "There's lots of pieces that are lodged in muscle... better to keep them still if I can."

From the corner of my eye, I saw Eric grinning broadly again. "This works too," he concluded, gesturing at my fiancé's wounds.

"What do you mean?" I asked, still not sure what had happened - how my car had suddenly gained the ability to fly, albeit not very far.

"The angry vampire threw your car into the trees, honey," Quinn explained. "He doesn't seem to realize you'd be the one with all this shrapnel in you, if I'd been a split-second later. You really need to start running away from danger, not towards it."

"And you need to start knocking me out of the way instead of using your body as a shield," I gently chided back.

"Yeah, only way that would've worked is if I landed on top of you, which would probably do more damage than the shrapnel."

I snorted loudly. "I'm tougher than I look. He's landed on top of me before," I gesture at my ex, "and I'm still here to tell the tale."

But Quinn still just shook his head. "See, I have this other way of doing things, and it mostly involves not putting you in situations where there's shrapnel flying around, so you don't need to be shielded from it." He glared at Eric, throwing a few bits of blood-covered glass he'd just extracted from his back all around the vampire's feet, narrowly missing his toes... which just made me wonder why he was barefoot.

"My blood would heal her," Eric shrugged, then gave my fiancé a look of utter hatred. "And the damage to her neck, too."

I shook my head in disgust. "You wouldn't care if I got hurt like that?" I pointed at my mate's wounds. I wanted to sound disbelieving, like I though Eric wouldn't see me getting hurt solely as a chance to get his blood into me again, but I couldn't manage it.

"You will still take my blood again," my ex assured me, "once you know what that bite means. And we now have a contract that I must buy you a new car, so you will drive something safe from now on. So this is a pleasant bonus, your mutt getting some shrapnel wounds." He looked exceptionally pleased with himself, like his plan had worked out even better than he expected.

"Oh, no you don't," I fumed. "There's no way I'm gonna -" Then I stopped short, 'hearing' something from my fiancé that made me even angrier. I spun around to confront him. "What do you mean, my 'car situation was already dealt with'? What did you do?"

"Sookie..." he pleaded, turning to me. "I agree with him that your car wasn't very safe, but I didn't do anything to damage it. I know what it meant to you, I wouldn't take something like that away from you."

"Then what did you do?" I was almost shaking with fury, that he had gone behind my back about something like this.

He sighed loudly, then put his left hand on my shoulder. "Try something for me? Close your eyes, and imagine driving down the road in your car." He waited until I huffily complied. "Now imagine the engine suddenly bursts into flame as you're driving."

Without meaning to, I started to teleport home, flickering out of this world for an instant before I realized I was already home and out of danger, so didn't need to teleport. "Oh," I murmured, looking up at him. "You taught me what to do if something went wrong."

He nodded, taking his hand off my shoulder. "If it broke down somewhere out of the way at night, I'm pretty sure you'd do the same thing."

"I would," I confirmed, feeling much less angry.

"And Amelia's teaching you to teleport other people with you, so pretty soon you'll be able to get any passengers out as well," he smiled.

"That's not all you did though, is it?" I could feel that it wasn't.

"No, but I did ask if I could take a look under the hood..."

"And?" I snapped, my suspicions rising again.

"Your car," he gestured at the tangle of destroyed metal in the trees a few yards away, "has new spark plugs, brake pads, fuses, wiring, fan belt, light bulbs... every part that might break, James and I pulled out and replaced." He looked guilty for a moment, then thought of something that might help. "Isn't it customary for human males to care for their girlfriend's car? I hear men whining about it sometimes at Merlotte's, being asked to fix things by their woman... isn't it just being a good boyfriend to fix your car for you, without making you nag first?" He was playing the 'human customs puzzle me' card and we both knew it, but he hoped it would work anyway.

"Just because that's what other couples 'round here do," I huffed, "doesn't mean we have to. And I'm gonna pay for all those parts, even though they're scrap metal now."

"Oh, you have," he grinned, his eyes twinkling. "James padded out the last invoice for the work on your house to include all the new parts we put in your car. That's why it was a funny amount, not rounded off like the first one."

He knew me too well, my fiancé. I couldn't stay mad at him when he'd already taken my main objection into account without me having to ask, so when I shook my head at him again, I had to work to keep the corners of my mouth from curling up too much.

"I was gonna leave the truck here, too," he volunteered, "whenever I had to go away. I figured if I told you how much airport parking costs, you'd offer to drive it back here and come pick me up when I got back... so you'd have the keys and have to drive it long enough to get used to it. I figured if I casually mentioned you could use it any time you wanted... and then insisted you fill the tank again any time you do..."

We both knew that telling me I had to refill the gas tank made me about a thousand times more likely to borrow his truck, since he'd given me something I could do in return. If it had a half-full tank and I gave it back full, I could feel like I'd paid him back for using it, and we were OK... whereas if he said not to worry about it, I would never borrow it at all, so I wouldn't feel like his charity case.

I burst out laughing at him, stepping in to press my body against his - as close to a hug as we could get while his back still had shrapnel in it.

He didn't negotiate the way Eric did - looking for leverage over other people, so they'd do what he wanted against their will - but instead tried to understand them well enough to find a way that what he needed could be seen to benefit them too... and ideally be their idea rather than his. I knew he'd learned that skill through years of indentured servitude; having to make the vampires who owned him want to keep him alive so he had a shot at survival. I hated that he'd spent three years of his life in that position, but I admired what he'd taken away from that experience: the skills needed to convince me to stay safe, without making me feel like I was in danger all the time. It had been my idea for him to come to church with me the last couple of times, so he could see that Christians weren't all as bigoted and heartless as the few bad ones he'd met... but the net effect of it was that I didn't leave the safety of Amelia's wards and his security upgrades on my own. Likewise, the net effect of him complaining about the cost of airport parking, would be me driving a safer car. I was OK with that.

"That's a better way to deal with my car not being very safe than trashing it," I praised him.

"Good," he grinned at me. "I just wanted you to be as safe as possible when you drove it, and to have a choice of driving something safer."

"OK, you can come shopping with me for a new one," I smiled up at him. "I'll let you help me pick something safer."

Once again, I was incredibly thankful for the money Niall left me; I'd barely have to save for a month to buy a new car outright, despite all the money I'd spent having James repair things around my house.

"I'm not really the guy to ask," he told me sheepishly. "James did the car fixing. I just handed him tools and held up the end when he needed to get under it. I can handle the basics, but anything complicated, I send to the shop. You should probably ask him, not me."

"But I am buying you a new car," Eric protested. "We have a verbal agreement; if I break something I must replace it, so I broke your car. You will accept a new car from me, and it will cost more than his stupid jewelry." He seemed upset that I wasn't going along with his plan.

"And what, then I'll sleep with you again because you spent more money on me than he did?" I snapped angrily.

He looked trapped for a moment, then informed me that, "Gifts mean I care for you. It is human custom for men to give gifts to their woman."

"Not destroying things that are important to me shows you care for me, too," I snorted. "Or not planning for me to end up with shrapnel wounds all over my body. It's human custom to not harm people you _care_ about."

"You would not be permanently damaged," he protested, "and you would be better off with a safe car and the mark on your neck healed."

"You don't choose!" I snapped. "You don't make those choices for me! You -"

My rant ended abruptly when Quinn pressed his hand over my mouth. "Bill's coming," he hissed at Eric. "Stall him."

To my shock Eric took off to intercept Bill without arguing, as my fiancé picked me up one-armed and sped into my house with me slung over his left shoulder like a sack of potato. I was too shocked to protest.

"Get this out of me now," he whispered as he set me down on the floor of my bathroom, right beside the bathtub. An instant later, he was kneeling in the tub so I could reach the windshield wiper blade that was still sticking out of his shoulder. "And don't get too soaked in the blood."

I hesitated for a moment, not sure what was going on, and he grabbed my hand and started projecting furiously to me. His thoughts were a jumble, but I could feel that he believed I was in serious, imminent danger. Any perceived flaws in my security were reason for Bill to have me sent to the King immediately 'for my own safety', and having my main 'bodyguard' out of action would be ample reason. He was sure that if my neighbor saw him looking weakened, we'd be in for a major fight come sunrise, when 'backup security' arrived to take me to de Castro because my day guard wasn't fit to protect me any more. Considering the King's plans for me, we needed to make sure that didn't happen.

"You need to do this now," he insisted, guiding my hand to the wiper blade. "If you don't, I'm gonna have to, and I can't pull it out at the right angle, so it'll be worse if I do it."

I gathered all my courage, pressed my left hand against his skin all around the wound, took firm hold of the wiper, and tugged sharply. He didn't move or make a sound, but I could feel the pain tearing through him as I pulled. It didn't budge the first time, so I focused all my attention on the wiper instead. All of a sudden, I could see inside the wound - could see the newly-healed artery resting right against the metal pieces; could see how it would be torn open if I ripped it out roughly like he asked. I put my hands on either side of the wound and leaned in close, focusing all my fairy powers to try to get it out safely. An instant later it started sliding out slowly without me touching it, as I eased it out telekinetically, a hair's width from the artery.

"Sookie, what are you doing? Just tug -"

"Hush, I'm getting it out without tearing the artery again," I interrupted him, and my boyfriend shut up, gritting his teeth against the pain.

He stayed perfectly still, but at the last moment, my concentration faltered and the very end of the metal sliced right through the artery I'd tried so hard to avoid, and blood started spurting out as it fell with a clang into the tub. I went to put my hand over the wound to press on it, but my fairy instincts screamed at me to do something else. I shifted into my true form without meaning to and sunk my sharp teeth into his shoulder, driving one deep into the wound, then held still as his blood poured into my mouth, gulping it down because the fairy part of me loved the taste. A few seconds later, the fast-growing new flesh in the wound forced my teeth out, and I looked down to see another set of my teeth-marks healing. Somehow, I'd been able to implant the tiny seed cells a second time, marking him as mine all over again.

I stared at the scar in puzzlement, because I somehow knew that fairies were only supposed to be able to grow one set of those seed cells in their lifetime - two at the most, and only if their first mate died... but even then, it was often centuries before they could mark a new one.

"I'm not bleeding any more," he said in wonder, looking over his shoulder at the scar. "Woah, you marked me again... how did you do that?"

"I don't know, but we've gotta finish cleaning you up... are the rest OK to come right out?" I waited 'til he nodded, then told him to, "Stand up."

As soon as he was still again, I reached a hand out in front of me, then gave it a sharp jerk about six inches backwards. Every piece of material still stuck in his flesh was jerked the same distance, coming clear of his skin abruptly. When I let it go it all fell into the tub with a noisy clatter.

He turned the taps on and stood under the shower, washing all the blood off his back hurriedly. I looked in the mirror as he did, seeing his blood coating my hands and mouth, and dotted all over my clothes. I licked my lips clean hurriedly, then snapped my fingers to change into a new outfit, giving myself the magical equivalent of a thorough scrubbing at the same time. He turned off the taps a moment later.

"Is there an old towel I should use?" he asked quietly, turning around to show me that a couple of the wounds on his back still dripped blood.

I laughed at him. "Honey, every towel in this house is old, use whichever one you want." I threw him the one he'd used earlier that night.

"Thanks," he smiled. "Well, I think I'll mend." He was speaking at normal volume again, which told me we had company.

"I just want to be sure that she's OK," Bill's voice protested loudly outside my bathroom door.

"She is fine," Eric's voice sneered back icily.

I concentrated hard and managed to conjured up clothes for Quinn without clicking my fingers, then went to fling open the door.

_STOP! _my fiancé screamed silently. _Cover my mark on your neck._

I concentrated again and my plain t-shirt was replaced with a pretty printed blouse that tied in a bow at my neck; a garment I'd seen in one of the fashion magazines Amelia kept bringing me, so I could conjure up gorgeous designer clothes for her. (Which I didn't mind, because she repaid me with ever-improving wards around my house; the result of the crash course in fairy magic she got by training me.)

I swung the door open then, to find Bill's knuckles swiping alarmingly close to my face as he went to knock on the door and missed.

"Bill, what are you doing here?" I demanded, figuring I didn't have to act surprised since he'd spoken loudly enough for me to hear before.

"You are OK," my neighbor sighed in a poor imitation of relief. "I heard the commotion and was worried about you." I'd dated him long enough to know when he was being sincere (rare) and when he wasn't (often)... although most of the time, I tried not to notice that.

"I'm fine," I assured him with a fake smile.

"And you, Quinn?" he pried, faking concern for my boyfriend even less convincingly than he'd faked relief. "I smell shifter blood."

I realized then that he'd notice my engagement ring any moment now and ask about it, so I casually slid my left hand into my jeans pocket, then telekinetically slid the ring down 'til it fell off. As I did, my fiancé distracted Bill by turning around and lifting his t-shirt most of the way up, showing the shrapnel wounds on his back. I noticed he was careful to leave the new scar I'd just left covered, although he moved so casually I doubted anyone but me realized he was covering something up.

"Nothing serious," he assured both vampires breezily. "I'll heal in no time."

"I only finished pulling out all the shrapnel a couple minutes ago," I added cheerily, "and the wounds have all stopped bleeding already. If they keep healing like that, they'll be gone by morning."

"Sounds about right," my mate grinned.

"What happened?" Bill asked, trying to mask his eagerness to get the gossip with more unconvincing faux-concern.

"Mr. High-Handed here," I turned on Eric, "decided I'd be more likely to accept a car he considers safe if he trashed my car first." I didn't have to fake the anger my whole body radiated as I stepped towards him.

"You will drive a safe car if I have to chain you into one," the Viking glowered at me. "_My bonded_ will not be seen in that piece of crap."

"Yeah, that's what this is really about, isn't it?" I snarled. "Not my safety, your status. How you look to all your little vampire pals. I am so sick of you!" I raised my voice to an unattractive whining scream. "All you do is scheme and lie! I hate you!"

Bill was watching my little show with rapt attention, not hiding his glee because he thought I was distracted.

"Do you think I care?" Eric smirked. "You are mine, you will drive whatever I say. This discussion ends now."

I took a deep breathe and narrowed my eyes, then turned to Bill and quietly told him, "I need you to leave."

"Are you sure you'll be OK?" he asked, clearly not wanting to miss the show.

I turned around and gave them all a look that made it clear that nobody should argue with me. Quinn raised his hands in surrender and edged his way out of my bedroom, dragging Bill with him. I heard him escort Bill out of my home, and the door close behind him.

A few moments later, Eric burst into a big smile. "That was fun," he laughed. "You sounded just like a petulant teenager."

"And you sounded like an overbearing jerk," I giggled back quietly. "I can't believe Bill bought that."

"You both do an excellent parody of yourself," Quinn concluded, walking back into my room.

For a few moments more, the three of us were all light-hearted giggles, buzzing with relief that we had convinced Bill to leave so easily. We had headed off disaster by convincing him this was just another routine argument between Eric and I, so he wouldn't tell the King it was a good time to grab me and ship me off to Nevada. Then I slipped the ring from my pocket absent-mindedly, sliding it back onto my finger because I already felt naked without it.

Unfortunately, that tiny gesture reminded Eric why he was here: to argue with me about my relationship with Quinn, yet again. He glowered at me, and I suddenly realized Bill really did leave so we could scream at each other without an audience.

All levity in the room was suddenly gone, and Eric, Quinn and I all eyed each other warily.


	56. Stupid

_A/N: Sorry I've been away so long; in the last few weeks, I went from being MarriedMinx to SeparatedMinx (but no, that's not gonna be my new screen name; will think of something else). Thanks for understanding the absence, and will try to be around more now!_

* * *

"Of all the stupid things you've ever done," Eric muttered at me, shaking his head. He wasn't looking angry so much as disappointed now. Somehow, that hurt more. "You say you want your freedom, over and over, and then you do this. I can fix that mark on your neck, but you have done more, haven't you? You have done something I cannot readily fix for you, I can feel it."

"I don't want you to fix it," I protested.

"Then you have done this without bothering to find out what it means. I know you are impulsive, but -"

"She knows exactly what it means," Quinn interrupted. "I wouldn't have done it if she didn't know what she was giving me."

Eric looked stunned for a moment, then started growling like an animal. "Oh, you told her, did you?" he stepped towards my fiancé menacingly. "Told her you would make a weak, sniveling slave of her? And she agreed to it? I think not."

Quinn stood his ground. "That's not what I've done. You don't know a damn thing about our ways."

"I know that when a woman turns up with one of these on her neck," Eric turned to me and pulled my blouse open roughly to expose the mark my boyfriend had left earlier that evening, "she is best fired on the spot. She is no use to anyone any more. She will sit around staring at the wall until her _mate_," he spat the word, "turns up to push her around. She loses all will of her own, and takes years to regain any semblance of one."

"Oh, you've seen a lot of these, have you?" my mate fumed back.

"I have seen hundreds."

"Right, so you're a fucking expert then, and you haven't noticed anything that's different about this," he gestured towards my neck.

Eric narrowed his eyes and went to push my hair out of the way, but I stepped back before he could, smoothing my hair away from the mark myself. He kept his distance but studied my neck intently anyway.

Quinn just stood there with his arms crossed, glaring at my ex.

Finally, Eric looked over at him, seeming almost puzzled. "You did it wrong," he concluded. "This faces the wrong way, it is too far forward, and you did not tear her skin." Then he burst out laughing. "You cannot even remember your kind's barbaric customs. And it is your job!"

My fiancé ignored the insult to his intelligence, and instead calmly said, "I doubt you've seen what usually happens in our ceremonies, but I couldn't do that to her. We did something very different, so it won't have the usual effects on her."

"But it will still make her weak... obedient... dependent... all the things your kind want in a woman," Eric narrowed his eyes.

I snorted at him. "Have I gotten weaker or more obedient in the last few days, Eric?"

"No, but he only did this tonight," he told me, as though I were slow. "So the effect should only start -"

"I've been imprinting to him for the last three days," I corrected. "It's half-done now, and it hasn't made me weaker, has it? I can feel how much stronger I am, so you must feel it too. It's like some of his strength and fighting instincts have rubbed off on me. He hasn't weakened me."

I stared down my ex defiantly, and after a few tense seconds, he snorted and looked away. Then he turned on my mate instead.

"As stupid as this was of her," the Viking seethed, "it was even dumber for you." He unexpectedly broke into his brightest, most gorgeous smile. "She is full of my blood. You bit her while she is full of my blood," he guffawed loudly.

Quinn wasn't remotely bothered, even though he knew it meant Eric's blood was now in his system as well. I was about to ask what that meant, when my ex gave a demonstration: pain suddenly tore through my mate's skull, making him sway on his feet and lean heavily against the wall to stay upright. Unfortunately, I 'heard' it clearly enough that my head felt like it was exploding, too, and I landed heavily on the edge of my bed as my knees buckled. This time, my mate didn't catch me; he was having enough trouble taking care of himself.

But as abruptly as it started, it ended again, with the hardest 'door slamming' feeling I'd ever felt from Quinn's mind. I looked over at him in shock, realizing he'd just closed one of those doors in his head, shutting Eric out... and that he was now doing a minor brain reorganization to form a sort of mental booby trap, moving his most painful memories to the place where Eric's blood had formed a connection, so that if he did try to open that door, he would have to absorb all the pain my fiancé had known in his life in an instant - pain that had taken him years of therapy to process. I doubted even Eric could withstand all of it at once.

I stared back and forth between the two of them, slowly figuring out what had just happened.

"You have taken vampire blood before," Eric realized aloud, half a second before I figured it out myself.

"Of course I've had it before," my mate snorted. "How do you think I healed overnight so I could fight again the next day, when I got half a lung pulled out between my ribs?"

I didn't have to look to know which scar that was; my hand went straight to the ragged tear still marked across the side of his chest, stroking it tenderly through his t-shirt. He looked back at me sadly though, certain this conversation wouldn't end well.

"But you walked out of the ring." Eric's voice held a note of wonder I rarely heard.

"Staggered out is more like it," my mate corrected, "just far enough to be out of sight when I went down. Hell, what about the time that fairy stuck a sword all the way through my spine... I didn't exactly walk away from that one. How do you think that healed in a week?" he snorted.

Again, my hand went to the scar without looking. I rubbed the long-healed wound tenderly, as though that might somehow make it better.

"I did not see that fight." Eric sounded disappointed. "I heard it was spectacular."

I wrinkled my nose in revulsion, feeling every bit as disgusted by that as my fiancé was. He hated everyone who went to pit fights on principle: he only had to kill people there because pit-goers liked to watch them die... and wanted it to be as gruesome as possible. He blamed each and every audience member for those deaths, knowing that if nobody came to watch, the fights would soon stop.

"They are a good place to conduct business," my ex sniffed, seeing my disapproval.

"Sure they are," Quinn sneered. "I know y'all tell yourselves pit fights are sport, that it's some grand display of strength, speed and supernatural power, but it's not. None of that is enough to win. The contest isn't about skill, it's about what we'll do to stay alive. That's all. There's not a damn thing sporting about it, when it comes down to it. It's all just a big entertaining bloodbath, staged for people like you."

"But why would any vampire give you their blood?" Eric changed the subject. "Why would anyone care whether you survived your injuries?"

"I made them a lot of money." He was lying, I could feel it.

Then I 'heard' a glimmer of why he didn't want to discuss it. "You think I'd have a problem with you for being with a vampire?" I demanded. "You think I'd judge you for that? Dump you for that? You think I'm that big a hypocrite?"

"Sookie," my mate pleaded, wanting to take my hand but not daring to in case I 'heard' more than he wanted me to know. "It was so long ago."

"You think I'd split up with you over this," I repeated, distraught that he thought so little of me.

From the corner of my eye, I saw a look of glee spread over Eric's face, lighting up his features. I 'heard' my fiancé realize my ex wasn't going to let this go, and conclude that he would have to tell me something he didn't want to. He was convinced we were about to be over.

"Sookie, the best pit fighters... we can't live in the cages at the ring for long; it's not safe. If someone we're scheduled to fight feels sure they're going to die... they do desperate things sometimes; try to kill the other fighter in their sleep before the fight so they can live. After the third time that happened in as many weeks, the vampires who owned my marker moved me into their nest... I lived there for most of three years, and -"

"You were their house pet," Eric filled in, looking very pleased with himself. "A house pet in a vampires' nest," he informed me grandly, "fucks far more people each day than I do. They are not exactly choosy about such things, _lover_, and unlike me they let every single one take their blood. It is their purpose in life to serve the needs of their many masters, and they take part in the most depraved acts to satisfy -"

"I was only a house pet for a few weeks," he corrected, "and it's not like I volunteered for any of that."

"I'm sure you hated every second of it," my ex sneered, his eyes full of contempt. "I'm sure you protested very convincingly."

Quinn snorted and shook his head, thinking, _like I'd be stupid enough to give them the satisfaction_.

"And you expect anyone to believe they let you live there without earning your keep? There is no way you could live there untouched, unless -" he stopped speaking abruptly, a look of realization on his face. Then he burst out laughing. "Oh, how did Pam miss this?"

"John, what happened?" I asked quietly, taking his hand. I could feel that he didn't want to discuss it, so I silently added, _I want to hear this from you, not him. I don't like hearing about your life secondhand, especially from people who distort things to make you look bad._

He sat down heavily on the edge of my bed, then watched me sit down next to him, trying to figure out how to tell me this.

Eric's eyes twinkled as he told me, "Your mutt is craftier than I thought. He got out of being a house pet by convincing some idiotic vampire -"

"Knock it off, Eric," I snapped, not wanting to hear another word from him, then turned to my mate. "What happened to you?"

When I took his hand again, his whole mind was closed to me... but when I brought it to my mouth and kissed it, he slipped for a moment, wanting so much to be close to me again that for just an instant, he let me in. That was more than enough to see what he didn't want me to know about, because he was sifting through the memories to try to figure out what to tell me about them. Seeing what he had been through, my heart ached for him, and I found myself sitting in his lap, planting little kisses all over his face.

"Oh, honey," I cooed. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

"How much did you see?" He figured it couldn't have been much if I was still willing to touch him.

I silently sent back those awful images: A cage furnished with only a bucket; six feet to a side, so he could only stretch out by lying diagonally across the floor, the criss-cross of bars digging into his skin. An attic that sweltered every day but got so cold he could see his breath at night; a space no vampire wanted because it let too much light in (they preferred the dank basement). Visits from ten or more vampires a night - most of the nest mates, and sometimes their friends as well - to feed on him (and demand other things too). An apathetic newborn vampire charged with his care, who often forgot to bring him food or water, or empty the bucket. The feeling of weakness that overtook his body after barely a week of being bitten so often; the knowledge that he was no longer strong enough to interrupt anything he wanted to stop...

Thankfully, I hadn't caught much of the other things they wanted him to do, apart from donate blood every night. He 'heard' me think that and silently assured me that most of the sex stuff wasn't so bad; that vampires tend to be highly skilled at such things (their Makers make sure of it) so most of what they do is physically enjoyable; and that because he'd been raised with shifter customs, he had no objections to fucking random people he didn't know... but underneath all that, I could feel that it rated as one of the worst periods of his life; a time when he was being slowly drained to death, and was looking forward to the day when it would all be over. The physical pleasure he felt was not enough to make up for the loss of liberty; the knowledge that saying 'no' was never really an option for him.

His mind became opaque to me again, but he assured me, "It was only for a few weeks," as though that somehow made it OK.

"How did you convince them to let you go?" I asked. "Did they send you back to the cages at the pits?" I'd seen enough in his thoughts to know that even though they were grim too, at least they had a real toilet, a hard bench to sleep on, and a regular feeding schedule (although they were mostly given the remains of other fighters to eat, which he hated).

"Of course not," Eric snorted. "He became someone's personal pet. Found some possessive vampire who'd keep him all the themselves, so he could be all good and faithful, just the way you like him." His voice seethed with resentment, which just made me glare back.

What I 'heard' next almost broke my heart. Whatever had happened back then, my fiancé was sure I would find him unworthy as a mate for having done it. He thought it completely unfair that, quote, _stupid human beliefs that don't even make any sense_ would end something as great as what we had, but was trying to convince himself that the memories of being with me would be enough to keep him going for long enough to finish raising Frannie, at least. He had unconsciously buried his face between my breasts, purring in the way cats did when they were scared or hurt, kneading me with his short blunt nails for comfort. I wanted to be mad at him for assuming I would judge him harshly (and in his opinion, unfairly), but feeling how much it tore him apart to consider life without me, I wanted to cry instead.

He slowly unburied his face, knowing that I should hear what he had to tell me from him, not my ex. "Sookie," he began tentatively, his voice wavering, "I was with a vampire for a while, but I didn't do it just to get out of that cage... at the time, I thought it was real... thought that I loved them, planned a future with them... I'd had so much of their blood though, just to get strong enough to fight again after being fed on so much... but of all the vamps in that nest, there was only one I actually liked as a person - only one whose company I could stand, really - and when they found me and cared for me... it's so rare to find anyone who won't kick you when you're down, I thought they felt something for me, too."

I gasped when he said it, realizing that me splitting up with him because he'd had to save his mother again must've felt like I was kicking him when he was down. I suddenly felt so ashamed of myself, I almost forgot that he was trying to confess something.

"No, no!" he replied, having 'heard' me even though I didn't mean to project. "Well, maybe, but I did it to you first, not returning your calls all that time and breaking my promises to you. That time, I definitely had it coming. I wasn't saying that to guilt-trip you, honest."

I just nodded and waited for him to speak again.

Whatever it was he had to tell me, it took him a long time to find the words, and I respectfully kept out of his mind as he did.


	57. Bombshell

Quinn really didn't want to tell me about this now - especially not with Eric present, looking for another chance to turn me against my fiancé and split us up. I 'heard' that he felt he had no choice though; that it wouldn't take long for Eric to find out which vampire he'd gotten involved with while he was in the pits... and then I'd hear this from my ex instead of him. He vowed I wouldn't keep hearing about his past secondhand, and knew this was his only chance to tell me himself.

He finally went to speak, steeling himself for the rejection he felt sure he'd receive in return.

"Sookie, the vampire I was involved with while I was in the pits... they weren't female," he confessed. "I had a relationship with a male vampire for a couple of years. I had so much of their blood beforehand I don't know what was real and what wasn't, but at the time... I thought I had feelings for them. I thought it was a real relationship. I wasn't just doing it to get out of that cage; I couldn't do that."

I sat there on his lap waiting for the rest of his confession; for the part that would shock me into splitting up with him. It took me a whole minute to realize he'd finished speaking. "That's it?" I finally asked, almost wanting to laugh at him.

As far as bombshells went, it just wasn't. I had spent my entire life listening to people's most secret desires, so I was under no illusions that there was anything unusual about wanting to try that; so many people wondered what it would feel like to kiss or touch or fuck someone of their own gender, at least once in their life (most often, while they were drunk in a bar...) I knew that for shifters, who had few taboos about anything sexual, those desires could be acted upon without having a major identity crisis. When he told me he'd tried 'almost everything', I knew his definition of 'everything' was far broader than the average human man's... and I couldn't exactly say the breadth of his sexual repertoire usually bothered me...

He nodded solemnly, still expecting me to blow up at him; to call him names and banish him.

"But you're not gay." I had intended for it to be a question, but it came out as a statement instead; I was certain he preferred women.

"God, no!" he exclaimed. There weren't many taboos amongst shifters, but being exclusively same-sex oriented was one; breeding was so important it was basically compulsory to have heterosexual sex at least occasionally. "No, I like women plenty. Especially this woman," he shyly rubbed my back, hoping I wouldn't push him away.

I nodded, then asked my other question: "Do you think that relationship would've happened, if you hadn't been stuck in the pits then?"

He considered it for a long moment, then answered as honestly as he could. "No, I don't think so. I didn't know it then, because I was fifteen and hadn't had a serious relationship with a woman yet but... well, I don't really know how to describe it, but there was something missing. I'm not saying it's like that for other people, but for me... I didn't love him the way I've loved women... in hindsight it was almost more like being close friends who have sex a lot, but -" he stopped suddenly, expecting me to react with revulsion to what he'd just said.

I gave him a look of disbelief, wondering how he'd ever gotten the idea that I was so narrow-minded I'd dump him over this... and 'heard' him assume I was, quote, "doing that stupid human thing" and concluding he wasn't much of a man after all, if he'd had sex with another guy a long time ago.

I got really annoyed then, and before I could think better of it, I'd caught one of his nipples and was pinching and twisting with all my might.

He cussed loudly in shock, not at all expecting me to do that.

"That's for thinking I'm so bigoted I'd dump you for that," I growled, twisting just a little further to make my point before I let go.

He stared at me in shock. "You... you don't mind?" he stammered.

I shrugged. "Why would I? You told me you'd tried almost everything, and I know your list of 'everything' is a lot longer than the average human man's. You've mentioned about a million times, how silly human ideas of sexual orientation seem to shifters. I'd already figured out that if people didn't have to completely change their identity to try that, it wouldn't be such a big deal... I know exactly how often humans who insist they have no interest actually daydream about that, or feel a spark towards people of the 'wrong' gender. I 'hear' all the mental gymnastics they go through to convince themselves they don't actually feel what they feel, or want what they want," I rolled my eyes.

"But... your religion... Your priest said -"

I interrupted him with a loud snort. "Yeah, that sermon would've been a lot more convincing if Father Andrews didn't keep picturing a couple of the choir boys committing homosexual sins with him while he was up there."

I finally realized how he'd gotten the idea I'd hate him for this: I'd dragged him to church with me the last couple of times I'd gone (although I'd since realized he had to be there as my bodyguard)... and unfortunately, the second time, the sermon was a re-run of our pastor's famous, 'no gays or vamps will ever marry here' rant; updated to include shifters too, since they'd recently made their existence known to humans.

He was staring at me in shock again, stunned that I could know someone was doing something like that, and just let it keep happening.

"Oh, he never actually _does_ it!" I corrected. "He thinks about it sometimes, but that's not a crime. If I ever 'heard' he'd actually touched anyone, I'd do something about it. Heck, even if he was planning to... but people think about bad stuff a lot more than they do it. I learned the hard way about intervening all the time. Now I leave idle thoughts alone."

"OK," he nodded, figuring I knew what I was doing. "But your church says that having done that makes me an abomination, wicked, immoral, shameful..."

I let out a long sigh. "That story he read out... he only read out the part that suited him. The whole story goes, the two angels are at Lot's place, and all the men in town are hanging 'round outside saying, 'gimme some o' that hot angel tail', and Lot comes out and says, 'oh no, that would be wrong, here, take my two virgin daughters instead and do whatever you want to 'em'. And it doesn't say it was wrong for him to do that! The daughters only escape because the mob don't want them. Which might be because some translators say the word for 'know' didn't actual mean sex in that context, it meant the crowd wanted to interrogate the angels, and the story's really about treating strangers well, not who you're meant to have sex with. And then the family flee the city, the wife gets turned into a pillar of salt because she looked over her shoulder once, so Lot's all alone in the mountains with his two daughters and he gets them both pregnant. Great story, huh?

"And as for the part that says 'don't lie with men'... that book of the Bible says children who disrespect their parents should be put to death, and adulterers, and blasphemers. It says it's fine to own slaves and stone witches and kill your enemies, and if a priest's daughter has sex before she's married, she should be burnt alive. It says disabled people can't be allowed inside the church. It says you can't eat shellfish or pork, and men can't shave, and if you break the rules, wild beasts will come and eat your children to punish them for your sins, like that's fair. And all that other stuff is superseded by the New Testament, which says nothing God made is unclean, and that humans don't get to judge each other - only God can - and all the other things I think are actually right... Even evangelicals ignore all those old rules, but all us Christians still have to live by the laws about homosexuality and masturbation, because even though everything else was superseded, they weren't." I actually rolled my eyes then.

"Oh!" I remembered another Bible verse. "It's also wrong for a woman to solicit sex from an animal, and they both have to be killed." I gave him a significant look. "He quoted that one in church, didn't he? To say why shifters won't ever be allowed to get married there?"

Quinn nodded. "The other priest was rolling his eyes when he said it, though, just like you were a minute ago."

I gave him a tight smile. "Yeah. The Ten Commandments and the things Jesus said... that's what I believe in. Not all the weird rules in the Old Testament. I think that's more like... history. It's the context for everything in the New Testament. Christians believe in Jesus and what he said; that's the parts of the Bible that are important to us. By those standards, you're a good person. You don't lie, cheat, steal or hurt people; you don't go around spreading nasty rumors... you certainly don't covet my neighbor's ass... "

He burst out laughing then, kissing me gently on the mark he'd left on my neck, relief flowing through him as he finally realized we were OK.

"You're only alive now because of him," I realized aloud. "You would've died in the pits, wouldn't you? If he hadn't helped you."

"About ten times over," he agreed. "When he found me... I had to fight again two nights later, and I was so weak I would've lost, and I didn't care. I didn't know about Frannie yet, so I just wanted it to be over... but when a starving tiger smells blood... there's not a lot of choice in it. Then, with that much V in me..." he trailed off, not sure how to tell me something. "The carnage... that's what made me popular with the vamps, those occasional outbursts. On my own, I'm strong and fast, but far too clean... I developed a tolerance after a while, but at the start, V made me crazy. Some time, you'll meet someone who saw one of those fights, and you'll see it in their memories..." his voice cracked, fearing my reaction to his past.

I just hugged him, though. "You did what you had to, to survive. I won't ever judge you for that, I've had to do terrible things to survive, too."

"So you let him get away with this, too," Eric huffed, clearly disappointed by my reaction.

I turned to face my ex then, still sitting on my fiancé's lap. "Sit down, Eric," was all I said, gesturing at the chair in the corner.

He complied remarkably quickly, but didn't look at all pleased about it.

"All this scheming... it's not going to work. I don't care what you dig up in his past, you're not going to succeed in breaking us up." As I spoke, Quinn slid a hand round my waist, under the hem of my blouse, stroking my skin affectionately. "The things - "

"Do you have to do that?" Eric burst out angrily. "Must you always have your hands all over each other? The two of you are sickening."

I ignored his last remark and just answered his questions indignantly. "Yes, we kind of do have to do this. We're imprinting, newly mated, and newly bonded. And we both actually want this, so of course we're letting it settle properly. Being bonded doesn't have to totally suck."

For a brief moment, my ex looked as though I'd just struck him, and then his face went utterly blank; emotionless.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to just blurt that out," I apologized. "I know you're here because you're worried about what I've done, but I know what this mark means," I smoothed my hair back and gingerly traced the fresh bite on my neck. "I know a lot of Supes will assume that John's the boss of me now, but we've done everything we can to make sure it's not like that. He wears my mark as well, and he promised that when people ask him things they should ask me, he'll tell them to 'ask the fairy'," I gave a little grin about that. "And sure, he's able to command me if he wants to now, but because I'm part-fae, I can resist if I don't like what he's telling me to do. Whereas he's not part-fae, so if I wanted to... but we both agreed we'll only use our ability to command each other if there's danger and there's no time to just ask instead."

"Wearing his mark makes you his, not mine," Eric informed me wearily. "I cannot protect you any more, if you won't let me heal it."

"She's under Gutteridge's protection now," Quinn calmly murmured behind me. "I wouldn't have done this if it would put her in danger."

"This all worked out remarkably well for you," my ex sniffed, looking suspicious.

"Yeah, it did." My fiancé was smiling broadly, I could feel that - but not because he'd plotted it this way and succeeded; instead, he felt like he'd gotten incredibly lucky about a hundred times over: getting me for a mate, being claimed by me, eventually being able to claim me, too...

"There was no guarantee it would," I realized aloud, turning to him. "You let me claim you, with no guarantee you'd ever be able to do the same to me... and then you let me mark you as well... you could've been stuck belonging to me, with nothing in return."

"Sure," he shrugged. "My mate's a fairy princess, belonging to you is an honor."

"You took such a leap of faith."

He wrapped his arms around me and nuzzled into my hair, silently telling me that he knew how horrible my first experience of being bonded had been, so he figured words would never convince me that it didn't have to be like that. Instead, he opted to show me: it had been an accident, me claiming him, but an accident he was very willing to let happen... and after that, he figured, 'in for a penny'... He never asked me to follow him, but always secretly hoped that feeling how wonderful being mine was for him would change my mind. It had.

I was suddenly in awe of my mate, doing something so huge and life-changing for me, without any guarantee it would work out well for him. He had unshakable faith that I was his fated mate and we would be together, so even when I hesitated, he was willing to move forward.

"Thank you," I whispered in his ear, clinging to him.

"My pleasure," he grinned back, remembering how wonderful being mated and then bitten by me had been.

Eric cleared his throat loudly, reminding us both of his presence because once again, my fiancé and I felt like we were the only ones in the room.

I collected myself with a deep breath, then turned to face my ex again. "Eric, this isn't like what happened to you and me," I met his eyes at last, finding hurt and bewilderment in them. "If André hadn't forced us, we wouldn't have been bonded. Neither of us wanted it, so the bond between us never settled properly, and it's been nothing but pain for us ever since. This is completely different. John and I... we've spent the last month figuring out what we could be to each other, and once we did... well, the way we've joined isn't something that can be formed in a few seconds under duress. The bond we have... it's taken us days to create. We've done this so slowly and carefully... we've made sure this won't end badly for us."

"But you are still my bonded," Eric objected. "We are still joined, I can feel you... Whatever you have done, I can still feel you."

"Yes," I agreed. "We can't break the blood bond without harming both of us, so it's still there. But I'm bonded more strongly to John now."

He probed our bond for a few moments, checking if what I said was true, then rasped, "What did you do? Love, what did you do?"

I let out a long sigh. "I really don't think you want to hear all the details," I gave him a wry smile. "But as well as imprinting the way shifters do with their mate... well, fairies bond with their mates too. There's two different ways it can happen, depending on whether the fairy's mate is a fairy or not, and... to make a long story very short, we have both kinds of bond now. He's mine, but we also bonded as equals." I couldn't help grinning, but I did manage to stop myself gushing about how wonderful being bonded was.

"Why?" was the only reply Eric made.

"When it's the right person, joining with them... it feels so natural, so right... You can't imagine how great it is," I murmured dreamily.

"Yes I can," he muttered under his breath, so quietly I shouldn't have heard him. Then he spoke at normal volume. "Why him?"

I let out another long sigh. "Eric, I _really_ don't think you want me to detail all the things I love about him."

"But you love me. You love me more." His eyes were boring into me as he pulled at our bond, trying to remind me what I'd felt for him.

I found myself sighing yet again. "I could never love the way you treat me. And whatever we feel for each other... if we weren't blood bonded, it wouldn't be like that."

His nostrils flared in anger then. "You accuse me of mistreating you. You do as you please, you are not some mindless puppet like Bill's pet over there. I have always allowed you to do as you wished, even when you dishonor me constantly. How you -"

"Wait," I interrupted. "What do you mean about 'Bill's pet over there'?"

"Do not change the subject," Eric huffed. "You think I will let you walk around with some other man's mark on you?"

I 'heard' what I needed to know from my fiancé, though: he thought he'd heard Bill glamoring Selah a couple of times, and was starting to wonder whether she was there of her own free will. Eric's offhand remark confirmed his suspicions, and he was weighing up what he might be able to do; whether there was any way he could speak to her alone, to find out if there was enough of her mind left for her to want to leave. He wasn't hopeful though; a person who'd been glamored heavily over a period of time often had so little of themselves left that they wouldn't be able to function alone again. Eric had told me as much once, saying that someone who was too heavily glamored had to be put down like a dog when the vampire(s) were done with them.

"You think Bill's glamored Selah into staying with him?" I asked pointedly, appalled by the idea.

"You cannot run away from this," Eric growled back. "You will tell me why you wish to dishonor me so, and we will -"

I could tell I wasn't going anything more from the Viking - he was too determined to fight with me about my relationship with Quinn (yet again) to give me even a one word answer - but I knew there was another way I could find out whether it was true.

I teleported to Bill's front door, hoping against hope that Eric was wrong.


	58. Plot

As soon as Bill opened the door, I barged past him, letting myself into his living room because I could feel Selah's mind buzzing in there. He muttered some sort of protestation but I paid him no attention, focusing instead on the person I had come to see. She was sitting on one of his couches, staring into space, seething with resentment that Bill had gone to my aid earlier that night, after he heard the commotion from my place when Eric threw my car away because he deemed it unsafe. Apparently, Bill had interrupted having sex with her to go check on me, and she was disappointed that he'd only finished himself off before he left. Ew.

I hadn't noticed before, but her thoughts seemed to consist of exactly three things: 'Bill is hot', 'I hate Sookie', and 'I am so much better than her'. It was unusual for anyone to think of so little; a normal human brain buzzed with a whole variety of topics: details of their surroundings, their memories, things they hoped would happen, favorite songs and stories... plus idle daydreaming, revenge plots, sexual fantasies... It was odd that someone as smart and ambitious as Selah had developed such an obsession with Bill, giving up everything else in her life (and her thoughts) to follow him around.

I walked straight over to her, crouched and put my hands on either side of her face, quickly changing her mind when she wanted to jump up and slap me for touching her. But then her brain was closed to me; blocked by the power of a vampire. I turned around and there were two possible candidates: as well as Bill, Eric was slouching in the doorway to the living room now.

"Which one of you is blocking me?" I glared at them both.

Before I even finished speaking, I felt a rush of air and saw Bill's head snap back as though he had been hit, hard. Eric was back in the doorway already, and whatever Bill had been doing to her, it had been released. I rolled my eyes at both of them, then turned to Selah, crouching in front of her again.

I let myself into her mind easily this time, finding almost no resistance there, and then started looking around. It was a weird experience, going around in circles in the same few small parts of her mind because the rest seemed to be asleep. I pushed into one of those dormant parts and found an entirely different person; a woman who valued her career above everything else, because she never wanted to rely on a man to provide for her. I saw that her father left her mother when she was fourteen and her mother struggled to pay the bills on her own, barely managing to hold onto the family home even after she gave up everything else that could cut costs: their mother-daughter tennis lessons, cable TV, buying new clothes each season... She'd even traded her car for a much cheaper one to raise money at one point, so Selah decided she had to walk everywhere rather than be seen by her friends in the new cheap car.

"What did you do to her?" I asked, as soon as I'd pulled out of her mind. "It's like Swiss cheese in there, all these holes..."

"She has been glamoured too many times," Eric told me, watching the scene before him in amusement.

"You did this to her," I accused Bill.

"I have not been well since I rescued you," he sniffed self-righteously. "I needed a regular source of fresh blood, and she came here freely."

"That doesn't make it OK!" I snapped. "You can't keep her here just because she showed up when you needed blood!"

"She is enjoying herself," he defended himself. "I make sure of it."

I shuddered in disgust, then sat on the couch beside Selah, placing my hands against her face and leaning in until our heads touched. A small part of her mind was cheering now, overjoyed that someone knew what had been done to her. She hoped I could do something to help her; that the rumors about me having strange mental abilities were true. Experimentally, I tried letting myself into one of those sleeping parts of her mind, reading what was in there until it started to make sense to me, then trying to join it back into her memories. To my shock, it was quick, easy work: all the necessary joins were already there, so all I had to do was lift away the weight of the glamor that kept the connections closed, and abruptly her memories were accessible again. I started going through section by section, carefully lifting away Bill's glamor.

"Can you tell what has been erased?" Eric asked me after a while, sounding almost interested.

"Blond wig and a sundress, padded bras, pretending to be a virgin," I muttered. "No wonder she hates me so much, poor girl. He didn't really erase anything; the memories are still there, she just can't access them. Removing the suggestions he's planted will be harder, though."

I followed the threads of suggestion deep into her mind, feeling the influence that had completely rewired her personality, with just a few hastily-given commands. I was glad I had spent so much time practicing deep reading with Amelia and Quinn; it was coming in handy now. I could feel exactly what was hers and what wasn't - the complexity of a person's real feelings and motivations was easily discernible from the single-mindedness Bill's glamor had created. What shocked me was how casually, almost thoughtlessly, he had done it. She had agreed when he first asked her on a date out of curiosity, feeling only mild attraction to him... but in five seconds in the Merlotte's car park, he had glamored her into wanting him intensely, and made sure she knew I was her 'competition'. It didn't seem like he'd even considered how it would effect her, to have such a strong attraction to him pushed upon her; how much of her usual mind he was suppressing, just to get what he wanted that night. The fact that he left the glamor in place, even when she started phoning him constantly to ask for another date, convinced me he didn't care how it effected her.

She had left town primarily to get away from him, knowing that being around him was bad for her somehow... but by then, it was too late; the obsession he had created in her simply wouldn't go away. She tried to start over, but with her mind wired to think about him all the time, it wasn't long until she craved him enough to come back.

I had to stop for a while then, unable to stand feeling what had been done to her any more. As I eased back out of her mind, I finally felt the tears that covered my face. As soon as I dropped my hands away, Quinn's arms were around me and he was gently licking the tears away.

"Are you OK?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

I shook my head very slightly, letting him finish licking me, then buried my head against his chest.

"It's so awful," I shuddered. "What he did to her..." Then I was sobbing, undoing my fiancé's gentle cleaning efforts.

"Love, what has he done?" Eric's voice interrupted my sobs. "I am his Sheriff, he will be punished if he has broken our laws."

I looked up then, finding my ex standing mere feet away, watching my mate comfort me. I pulled myself together, hastily rubbing my eyes to try and stop the tears flowing from them.

"I don't know if y'all even have laws against this," I began, "but it's like he completely rewired her. She wasn't all that attracted to him, so he glamored her just before their first date to make her fawn all over him in front of me, and since then... He just left her like that. She's been following him around like a lost puppy ever since, and that's so not what she's usually like... And any time he does something she doesn't like, he glamors her into shutting up about it... And the sex... it's so revolting." I chanced a glance at Bill then, but he didn't seem at all bothered by what I was saying. That quickly turned my tears to an icy glare, directed right at him.

"Has anyone noticed the changes in her behavior?" Eric asked, drawing my attention back to him.

I snorted. "Of course people noticed. Miss 'career means everything to me' suddenly spending all day fawning over a man... her Mom tried to stage an intervention, her boss asked her what the heck is wrong with her, her co-workers teased her about it so much she went and found another job, her best friend started researching vampires to try and find out what he'd done to her. Heck, even her ex was so worried, he -"

"Someone was so suspicious they started investigating us?" Eric's eyes had lit up, the corners of his mouth almost turning up in a smile.

I just nodded. "Her best friend, her ex, her Mom... they all presented her with information they found on the internet about vampires. I think her co-workers probably looked it up, too; they seemed to know more about y'all, the longer they teased her."

Quinn cleared his throat loudly, still crouching in front of me. "Sorry to interrupt, but is she meant to be doing that?" he gestured at Selah.

She was staring into space, her mouth half-open, eyes glassy, drooling a bit.

"I'm not finished yet," I admitted guiltily. "Undoing all the glamor... it takes a while, and I needed a break because it's all so awful, seeing what he did to her. So her mind's sort of half put-back-together now. I'll finish soon... I just need a break." I fought the next round of tears.

"Hey," he soothed, "it's OK, she doesn't seem to be in pain or anything."

"No, she's not," I confirmed, "her head's just all in a muddle, because the glamor's only half-undone so far, so she doesn't know what she's meant to think." I turned to Eric then. "Can you do anything about this?"

"There is no law against glamoring a human," he told me, "but we have long had laws against drawing attention to our kind. If his actions led many humans to investigate us, he has endangered all the vampires in my Area. Humans rarely punish the correct vampire for their crimes; they think it fair to burn a whole nest to death, for the crimes of someone else." He didn't think much of humans, I could see that.

"So you'll be able to punish him," I was pleased to conclude.

He nodded, looking equally pleased with that idea. I didn't ask what he was going to do; I didn't want to know.

_You'll be dead before you can_, I 'heard' clearly. My eyes snapped to my fiancé, wondering who he wanted dead, and why. But as I let myself into his mind, I realized two things: firstly, that he was thinking about what Selah would go through, recovering from the ordeal she'd had... and secondly, that his was not the voice I'd just 'heard' in my head. Selah's thoughts were currently more-or-less white noise, and the only other people present were...

_Oh, no_, I realized. _I'm hearing vampire thoughts again_. Mentally, I kicked myself for taking Eric's blood, which had no doubt caused the annoying occurrence. I tried to dismiss it and pretend nothing had happened, but then I realized what I'd heard: someone was going to die. Someone _here_, right in front of me, was going to die. And someone else here knew when and how it would happen. I didn't want anyone I know to die, so I gritted my teeth and opened myself right up.

"Babe, are you OK?" Quinn interrupted me, just as I started. "You just turned really pale."

"Patching up someone's mind... it's hard work," I lied. "I feel dizzy. Too many of her thoughts in my head. Just need to rest a moment."

With that I closed my eyes, letting him know that I didn't want to be disturbed. I opened my mind right up again, reaching out to both vampires, hoping whoever just thought that would still be thinking about it, so I could catch more details of the plot. They weren't.

Instead, the whorl of thoughts I caught was about Selah... and me._ Like I care. As soon as he's dead, you'll be mine again, _I heard. I opened my eyes to see Bill staring right at me, and in an instant, I realized he was thinking about _me_. He thought I would get back together with him! He didn't mind Selah being un-glamored so she could leave, because he was sure he'd get me back soon. No way was that gonna happen.

_Being your handler will cement my place in Felipe's court_, he happily continued, the corners of his mouth curling ever-so-slightly. _So I can live in his palace where I belong. I will have your blood whenever I want. And my other needs will be taken care of in his brothels. _

Unfortunately, I caught the images that went with that, and literally reeled in disgust.

_And you'll never, ever know, _he finished, carefully suppressing his smile, trying to look worried instead. _No, maybe you should. You won't be able to stop me. Cry all you want, when Eric's gone I won't be your lap dog any longer. Felipe won't care how I handle you._

I tried to keep my poker face as the contents of my stomach rose up into my throat, then realized I didn't need to. I edged away from Selah instead, as though it was the tangled confusion of her half-healed mind that was making me feel bad.

I put my head in my hands, knowing I looked completely overwhelmed - and I really wasn't acting. Then I tried something I never had before: I reached out to Bill's mind, giving him the slightest push towards gloating over his plan to kill Eric.

To my surprise, it worked perfectly - and instantly. Bill was picturing Eric's flesh dissolving from his bones, in a spare bathtub already placed in the basement below his guest bedroom. Looking up through the hole in the floorboards (carefully rigged so it would fall through when Eric stepped on it) at me lying on the bed right beside it, unconscious. Telling Eric that by the time I woke, I would already have had enough of Bill's blood to be interested in him again... because with my bonded dead, I would quickly bond to whoever offered, just to make the pain less. Then beheading Eric with some sword of Felipe's, which would apparently please his King greatly.

He then realized he needed just one more thing to being his plan to fruition: a video camera, so he could present Felipe with a movie of the great event when he returned Felipe's sword, still covered in Eric's blood and half-dissolved flesh. That prompted one more going-over of his checklist, making sure he had all that he needed: the big drums of powdered silver, to be mixed with water in the huge spa tub Eric would fall into; the tasteless, odorless drug he would slip into my tea one evening when he invited me over, to render me unconscious; the rigged floorboards in his guest room; the tub directly beneath them. The only thing he was still missing was a reason to get Eric to bring Felipe's sword, when Bill called him to lure him over by saying I was in trouble; unconscious at his place and needing urgent help.

Then he started thinking how wonderful it would be, feeding on me again as I lay unconscious on his spare bed... then giving me his blood so, in my newly un-bonded state, I would start bonding to him instead. He gloated that when I took his blood for the third time, I would think I had chosen it, not realizing that the two doses of blood he had already given me - which he would say had healed me from some terrible spell-inflicted injury - had influenced me into doing it. He then started thinking of all the things he would command me to do once I was bonded to him, and to my horror, I realized that all those times he had basically just grabbed me, bent me over something and gone for it when we were dating... in his mind, he had been treating me gently. I couldn't stand to hear any more.

I took hold of Quinn's arm in a white knuckle death-grip, pushing my way into his familiar calm mind to try and shut out what I was 'hearing' from Bill. It didn't work; the images in Bill's head kept flooding in anyway, until my fiancé mercifully did that mental door-closing thing he could do and it all disappeared; shut outside where it couldn't touch me.

_You can read vamps?_ he asked, astonished.

_No no no, I absolutely can't read vamps, not ever, not even a little. Not at all_, I insisted, far too forcefully.

_OK, no need to yell_, he cringed. _I wasn't gonna tell anyone, I know what'd happen to you if I did. I can see why you're turning green though, that guy's got some major issues with women, doesn't he?_

I startled for a moment, then realized he'd only caught what Bill was thinking when I pushed into his mind, not the things I'd 'heard' before. _His Maker_, I explained, without really meaning to. _I have to warn Eric_.

_Warn Eric about what?_ he silently asked me, confused.

_Bill's gonna kill him. Send Eric after me? _I didn't wait for an answer, teleporting out of the room immediately so I wouldn't have to look at Bill.

Still, I 'heard' my mate figuring that would be easy enough to do, since I couldn't read Eric's thoughts (as far as anyone knew) and I'd already said I was overloaded from everything I'd read in Selah's mind. It wouldn't be hard to explain why I wanted Eric and not Bill there, considering.

* * *

I appeared in the fairy meadow an instant later, momentarily panicking that I'd just revealed to Bill that I could teleport, only to remember that he'd seen me do it once, just before Quinn arrived and started making sure my training never continued late enough for him to see what I could do. Chances were, if he was going to report it to whoever he was spying on me for, he already had.

Then I realized that even if I had just given that away, it wasn't at all what I needed to panic about... I had to somehow tell Eric what I'd found out and warn him, without revealing that I could 'hear' vampires. I doubted even my bonded would spare my life if he knew. Unconsciously, I'd picked the fairy meadow for exactly that reason: it was magically warded to prevent fairies being ambushed when they walked through the _sidh_ (which I always spelled phonetically in my head, i.e. 'shay') into this world, so nobody could harm even a halfling like me here.

For a moment I wanted to hide from Eric, wishing he wouldn't come and find me here... and a second later, he blurred right past the meadow. I realized then that if I decided it wasn't safe for someone to find this meadow, they would never be able to - at some point, I had become the official guardian of the _sidh_ and that gave me control of this place... and all the magical power that emanated from it.

"Eric," I called out, changing my mind again because I wanted to warn him about Bill's plot.

He appeared in front of me a second later, seeming to materialize out of thin air. Even knowing to expect it, I still jumped a little. I racked my brain, trying to figure out how to tell him what I knew, without revealing the secret I had kept from him for so long.


	59. Knowing

"I'm not really here because Selah's thoughts overloaded you, am I love?" Eric quirked an eyebrow at me.

We were standing out in the fairy meadow alone, late in the evening. For the last minute, he'd just watched me wring my hands, as I tried to figure out a way to warn him about Bill's plot, without revealing that I'd read his mind. Reading vampires' minds was a dangerous skill to have, and I knew that even my bonded wouldn't spare my life if he knew I could do that.

I was quickly realizing there was no other way, though. I considered telling him I'd figured it out from Selah's thoughts, the same way I'd been able to pass off everything I'd read from Henrik Feith's mind at his trial as coming from his lawyer instead, but soon realized that while she'd seen his preparations, there was no way she could know Bill's motivations or his plans for me, once the deed was done. I considered an even bigger lie - that I had somehow stumbled upon all Bill's supplies myself, and just figured out what it all meant - but again, I soon realized I had to share details that were only in the mind of the plotter. Even Quinn's snooping wouldn't uncover some of the things I just had, so I couldn't say I'd got my information from him, either.

I added it all up quickly. Eric couldn't harm me until I left the fairy meadow, and if I teleported far enough away, he wouldn't be able to use the bond to find me. If Quinn got back to my house in time, Amelia's wards would stop him being harmed there - he'd been resident long enough to dis-invite Eric, if he needed to - so my ex wouldn't be able to use him to get me to come back. Hunter would also be safe in the house, as would Amelia and Frannie... but since they were at Merlotte's still, having a long dinner, it would take them the most time to get back. They would have to wait out the night there, but the wards were more than powerful enough to keep them safe 'til morning. Then, Quinn's truck was parked just within the bounds of Amelia's wards, as always, so they could get to it without risk... and I knew he had made a few modifications to it, so it was more-or-less attack proof. He and Amelia could both take care of themselves, and I felt sure that between the two of them, they could keep Hunter and Frannie safe as well. There was a place in a remote part of the Appalachians that Quinn had mentioned, saying I'd be safe there if I ever needed to run... so if I telepathically told Hunter that's where I'd be, I was pretty sure we'd all be able to meet up there within a few days, without anyone finding out where we were and following. That would leave James at my house, and I hoped he'd stay and protect it for me while I was away. He had a couple more weeks' work to do, at least.

Happy with my plan, I started putting it in motion. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, and sent Quinn a brief text message:

_Take Selah to my place? Will finish things there._

Eric appeared at my side as I did, looking over my shoulder to see what I'd sent.

"It'll be easier to finish fixing her at home," I lied, wondering briefly what I should do with her overnight; whether it would be safe for her to leave.

Then I mentally reached out to Hunter, who was sitting in a booth at Merlotte's, watching Frannie sneak swigs from Amelia's drink whenever my roomie turned away. Quinn's sister moved almost as fast as he did, so she needed only a momentary head-turn to give her time to take a large gulp and replace the beer. I could see she'd practiced that trick, because the beer didn't slosh around in the glass as she moved and replaced it; she'd figured out how to move it so there was no tell-tale moving liquid when she put it back.

_I'd feel sick tomorrow_, Hunter told me, sensing my disapproving comments before I made them. _She won't. Shifters burn it up too fast. But Amelia will. She'll be so grumpy. I can't move fast enough, anyway. And no, not coming home. No need to. Eric won't hurt you. He already knows._

_No, Hunter, he doesn't._ I replied testily. _If he did -_

_I'm the seer_, my nephew smugly interrupted me. _He knows._

With that, he turned his attention back to Amelia's guessing game, where she and Frannie tried to figure out what different people in the bar were thinking, just by looking at them, and then Hunter told them if they were right. Given the things people thought about in bars, I was pretty sure it was a game I didn't want him playing... although he'd be hearing off-color thoughts any time he left the house, I knew that. And then I realized what he'd be exposed to, sharing a house with Amelia - it sure wasn't like growing up around my Gran, who was careful not to think anything sexual while I was around. There was no way for me to protect Hunter fully, I was fast realizing that.

"You are talking to the child?" Eric asked, looking ever-so-slightly frustrated.

"I was just checking on him," I told my ex indignantly. "Making sure he's OK."

"And I am out here because... ?"

I sighed and took a few steps back, then realized a few feet extra distance wasn't going to help if he decided to attack me. "Eric, if I knew something... if you were in danger and I found out... but I couldn't tell you how I knew because it would put someone else in danger..." I twisted my hands again nervously, trying to figure out how to say this.

"Love," he interrupted my thoughts, thankfully not moving any closer, "what did you hear Bill think?"

I stared at him in shock for a moment, then gave my standard deadpan answer. "I can't read vampire minds, Eric. You know that."

"Of course not," he smiled. "Your life would be in great danger if you could."

My mouth opened a few times to reply, but nothing came out.

He put his hands up in surrender and slowly walked towards me. "Love, it is our secret. I will never tell anyone. I like you alive."

"You know," I whispered.

"I thought some things I was sure you would react to soon after we met. Pushed the thoughts toward you. You are good, your reaction would be undetectable to a human. But your eyes widened a little, and your posture stiffened... I knew you had heard."

"Your plans for me," I gasped, knowing exactly what he was referring to.

He nodded. "A stupid move. Whatever Bill told you of me, my little test confirmed it all, did it not? Removed any chance you would ever trust me?"

I nodded back, still in shock. "You knew. All this time, you knew."

"Yes."

"Why am I still alive?" was my only question. "Why am I still alive, when I can..." I didn't dare say it aloud, even now, even here.

"You have the sense to keep it secret, so my kind see you as a tool they can use, not a weapon that can harm them."

"But you know. Why haven't you..." My words ended in a gulp, as I thought about what I expected Eric to do to me.

"My love," he reached out and ran his cool fingertips along my cheek, "I would never hurt you." Then he pulled his hand away abruptly, his expression ashen. "Never deliberately. The waitress who put that video on the internet to humiliate you... she has been fired."

"One of your waitresses put it online?" I asked, confused. "But you -"

"I knew it would be recorded," he confessed. "Felipe watches my office now; a condition of keeping my Area. Your mutt is right that I have a kill switch, but I use it as infrequently as possible. If the feed cut out often, it would be investigated. Were the kill switch found, my life would be forfeit. I knew a few vampires would see it... it was useful to me, strategically, for your charms to be more widely known. But it was not to be distributed like that. The waitress you spoke to once, Alana... she published it, to hurt you and cause trouble for us. Part of her ongoing campaign to secure my affections," he rolled his eyes. "She has been punished, and no longer works for me."

I pulled away in horror, knowing what 'punished' meant to vampires... the girl hadn't been 'fired' so much as terminated.

"She is unharmed," he hastily added. "She will say vastly inappropriate things to anyone she wishes to impress," he smirked, "and will only find sexual gratification with people who physically repulse her. I have glamored her into humiliating herself far more than she humiliated you. It will wear off in a few years. Pam tells me it will take years for you to stop feeling that way, so it seemed fair."

"Uh-huh." I wasn't sure if I was pleased about that or not.

"I cannot undo what happened. This is the best I could do. Nobody on my staff will embarrass you so, ever again. I am sure of that."

I shook my head. "No, Eric, that's not the best you can do. You messed up, not her. Whatever she did... she only got that video because you tricked me. You didn't bother telling me we were being taped, because I would've said no."

"I am sorry," he apologized stiffly. "And I have not gone unpunished. I lost you. My actions cost me -"

"OK, OK, I get it," I stopped him. I couldn't let him go on; not when he looked so unsure of himself... so hurt, even. After all he had done, it still pained me to see him like that, with all the swagger knocked out of him. "Eric, Bill wants to kill you," I changed the subject abruptly. "He's booby trapped the floor in his guest room so you'll fall through into this big spa tub he's placed underneath. He's got three big plastic drums of this powdered-silver stuff down there, which he'll mix with water, and it'll dissolve your flesh away."

"Silver nitrate," he muttered, looking almost perturbed for once. "Of all the ways to go..."

"Once you're in there, he plans to behead you with some sword that belongs to de Castro, but he's still trying to work out how to get you to bring it with you... that's the only reason he hasn't done it yet, he hasn't worked out how to get you to bring the darn sword," I shook my head. "Oh, and he just decided he's gonna buy a video camera first, so he can tape the whole thing and give it to his King."

"He plans to tape it?" Eric asked, disbelieving. "To give to Felipe?" He broke into hysterical laughter then, doubling over in front of me.

"What's funny?" I wasn't seeing anything amusing about Bill's plot.

"Giving Felipe a tape of himself committing premeditated murder of his own Sheriff?" Eric chuckled. "That's bound to end well, I'm sure."

"Bill will get in trouble for doing it," I realized aloud.

"Felipe will kill him for it. It is almost a pity to thwart his plan, since his stupidity would get him killed too."

"We're going to thwart this plan," I insisted, my words coming out a little too forcefully. "I'm not gonna end up bonded to Bill. The things he was thinking about doing to me..." I shuddered then, unable to say another word about it.

Eric's arms were around me a moment later, cold and hard, but oddly comforting still. "I will not let that happen, love," he murmured, his lips in my hair. "That is the purpose of the plot, to take you from me?"

I just nodded, still too upset to speak.

"Love, did you 'hear' how he plans to lure me into his guest room? I doubt he plans to invite me to stay; I would not accept such an invitation."

"No," I pulled back to look him in the eye, "he's gonna invite me over for coffee, then slip a drug into my drink to knock me out. He's got it hidden in his kitchen. Then he'll call you and say I'm in trouble; that some kind of magic seems to be effecting me, and I need your help right away. He expects you to rush into the guest room to check on me, and fall straight through the floor into the tub of that silver nickel -"

"Silver nitrate," he corrected. "The source of the myth about our kind being afraid to be photographed. Or being invisible in them. We are afraid of photo _labs_, not the images," he shook his head. "The old labs, anyway. They have changed, now, mostly."

"Oh." I didn't get it. "And then he'll kill you, and bite me, and give me his blood, then re-drug me so I'll stay asleep a while longer, so he can do a second blood exchange while I'm out cold. Then when I wake, he'll tell me some magic was killing me, and he healed me with his blood. And if I notice that my bond to you is broken, he'll fake surprise and say that must be what was killing me before; that something must've happened to you and when you died it almost killed me too, and how glad he was that he was there to help me." I could hear the disgust in my voice. "And he's convinced I'd be so high on his blood that I'd throw myself at him in thanks, and exchange blood with him a third time so I'm bonded to someone again, and then think it was all my idea and blame myself when he pushes me around."

Eric burst out laughing again, and when I gave him a puzzled look, he said, "He thinks he will be able to control you?"

I nodded. "He's all happy about it, that he won't, quote, 'be my lap dog any more'; that I'll have to do as he says."

My ex was laughing hysterically again, doubled over in mirth.

"I don't see what's so funny," I grumbled, wondering if he was maybe laughing at me.

"_I_ can't even compel you, love," he chuckled. "If one my age cannot, then he has no chance. You are resistant to all outside compulsion."

"Oh." I hadn't known that. "But you can influence me."

"You hear my thoughts sometimes, that is all," he assured me, suddenly mirthless. "I can speak to you silently, not command you."

"But your thoughts are different... it's like they're coming from deep inside me... not like hearing anyone else's thoughts."

"We are bonded." He said it as though it explained everything. "We are joined at the deepest level."

I nodded then, understanding. He could communicate with me through the bond - so his thoughts felt like they were coming from the part of me that was bonded to him, rather than coming through my senses like everyone else's did. "OK, I get it. So Bill's plan... what do we do?"

Eric flashed me his biggest, most gorgeous smile. "Love, I can fly," he grinned.

I gave him a puzzled look.

"When the floor falls through, I will drop no more than an inch. As soon as my reflexes kick in, I will float."

"So it won't work?" I double-checked.

"No, it will not. Bill will have his Sheriff floating above a hidden trapdoor, looking down at a tub of silver nitrate solution. I will not be the one who dies as a result of his plot. He forgot to figure in the abilities I have that he does not." He smirked then, looking very pleased with himself.

"He thinks he's better than you," I explained. "So he can't accept that you can do things that he can't."

Eric threw his head back and laughed some more then. "That sounds like Bill."

"So I told you for nothing," I realized. "I risked my life to warn you, and all along - "

"You did not risk your life," he corrected me. "I will never harm you. No matter what you can do, you have my protection."

"OK." I still couldn't fully believe it, but he had saved me a whole lotta times...

He was standing less than a foot away from me, all of a sudden, forcing me to crane my head back so I could look him in the eyes, not the nipples. He slowly reached out to me, his fingertips inching towards my face, giving me plenty of time to pull away or tell him to stop... but I didn't. The way he was looking at me... I didn't understand how he could make me feel like that - my breasts aching for his touch, my sex flooding and throbbing - just because he _looked at me_.

"You're doing something through the bond," I realized, still not sure I wanted him to stop.

"Letting you feel how much I want you," he admitted, his fingertips brushing my face, making me melt. "I will do whatever it takes to bring you back to me, my love."

He slowly bent over me as he spoke, bringing his face closer and closer to mine... and even though I could feel what he was going to do, I didn't move an inch; just stood there aching for him. His other hand slid under the hem of my blouse, stroking the skin over my spine in a way that sent shivers right up it, making me gasp.

"You are mine," he insisted, his lips mere inches from me. "You are still mine."

I went to make a sound of protest, but his lips were on mine before I could, cool and hard but so, so gentle. The need that I felt bubbling up from deep inside me wasn't mine, I knew that, but it was almost irresistible. My whole body was responding to him, and when he pressed my chest to his, pulling me off-balance so I had to lean into him to stay upright, I heard myself moaning pornographically; a sound no-one would mistake for anything but an invitation.

I realized then that I had to stop things now - because if I let them go any longer, there would be no stopping at all. I pushed against his chest, not quite hard enough to be convincing... but to my surprise, he let me go, breaking the kiss as he did.

"Oh," I complained, unable to keep the disappointment from my voice. I turned away then, burying my face in my hands. Seeing the back of the gold band on my ring finger, I felt so guilty I wanted to crawl under something and die. I was a bad person, I knew that now. No matter how much I loved Quinn, I was blood-bonded to Eric, and whenever he was near, I felt things I knew I shouldn't feel for anyone but my fiancé.

Cool fingertips slid across the back of my neck, pushing my hair to one side, and I knew that any moment now, cool lips would start teasing the spot behind my ear that made me melt.

"Stop." My voice came out as a pant, but he immediately stopped touching me anyway. "Stop what you're doing through the bond, too." I felt something close inside me, but it was too late; he'd started a chain reaction that kept bubbling even after the initial catalyst was gone. I closed my eyes tightly and forced the feelings back down, so I wouldn't register them any more.

"Is that really what you want me to do?" he whispered in my ear, and that taunting note in his voice broke the spell entirely.

I spun around to face him, finding him far closer to me than I expected; my body almost brushing his as I turned. I took two big steps back, then glared at him. "I love John. I'm engaged to him, I'm gonna marry him, I'm gonna have his children. You can't stop me."

"Perhaps not, but you are still mine." He was regarding me coolly; studying me, as though I were some curious specimen.

I shook my head and teleported home, back to my fiancé, hoping he would forgive me for letting Eric's latest attempt at winning me back go so far.


	60. Revelations

When I reappeared in my living room, Quinn was sitting next to Selah, stroking her arm to keep her calm. Bill was leaning in the corner, glowering at him. Eric appeared out of thin air an instant later, having run back to my house in about the same time as it took me to teleport.

"OK," I decided aloud, "let's get this over with." I figured it was better to concentrate on the task at hand, than what Eric and I just did.

I sat next to Selah, on the opposite side to Quinn. He turned her towards me and I put my hands on either side of her face, letting myself into her mind again. Now that I knew how to do it and wasn't making it all up as I go along, it was a quick job to remove all of Bill's glamour, so she had her own mind back again. That meant restoring some memories she really wasn't going to enjoy having - some truly awful things Bill had done to her, for his own gratification - but I decided it best that she know exactly what had happened.

It took me only a couple of minutes to gently lift away all of his glamour, and when it was done, her mind was her own again.

"Sookie," she greeted me, as I pulled my hands away. "Thank you." She looked brighter and more alert than I'd seen her in months.

"You're welcome," I told her wearily.

"Can I call my Mom? She's been so worried about me, the way I've been acting lately."

"Sure," I smiled, pleased to see her acting like the competent, driven girl I remembered from high school. "Phone's in the kitchen, down the end of the hall." I gestured to the hallway.

"I remember," she smiled back. "My Mom and I brought a casserole, when your grandmother died. Well, my Mom did. She sort of dragged me along... sorry."

I shook my head, refusing her apology as she got up and started towards the hallway. She didn't make it though; after barely three steps, Eric was in front of her, blocking her path.

"What are you doing?" I demanded, as I felt him stop her with his glamor.

"She cannot know about about our mind-control powers," he looked around her at me. "Humans are not allowed to know."

"She can know," I glared at him, "she just can't tell anyone else." I understood why he needed to keep that ability secret, but I also wasn't going to let him undo all the hard work I'd just done. Selah would cope much better with what Bill had done to her, if she knew that he'd compelled her to do it. "Only glamor her so she gets tongue-tied if she tries to tell anyone that he glamored her, OK?"

Eric nodded, then started whispering to Selah, subtly strengthening her reluctance to tell anyone, so there would be parts of what happened that she would never be able to admit to anyone else, even though she knew full well what had happened to her.

As he did it, Quinn slid across the couch, wrapping his arm around me. "That was really impressive, babe," he grinned at me. "Undoing months of glamor in a couple of minutes... that's a great skill to have. There's a lot of people you can help, with that."

I smiled wanly and shrugged, knowing I had to tell him what had happened while I was alone with Eric.

A moment later, his nostrils flared, and I 'heard' that he had caught Eric's scent on me. He started sniffing me all over then, quickly figuring out that Eric had made contact with my chest, lower back, neck and lips.

"Eric kissed me," I confessed, my voice an unsteady whisper. "I pushed him away, though. And when he went to kiss my neck instead, I told him to stop. He was doing something to me through the bond... making me want him. I'm so sorry, I should be stronger, I -"

"No, no, it's OK," my fiancé pulled me too him, wrapping me in his arms and making little hushing sounds to quiet me. "You're blood-bonded to him, I knew I wouldn't have you 100% to myself again. You can't help feeling something there, don't beat yourself up about it."

I sagged in his arms, relieved he wasn't angry, but still mad at myself for what I'd done; for not stopping Eric sooner.

_Three seconds is soon enough_, my mate silently assured me, _especially when he's putting that much blood-bond juju on you._

I wasn't really listening though, because another set of thoughts had my full attention. _What is he playing at? _the other voice 'said'. _He can't fuck her now, Felipe has seen to that. Wish I could've been there for his punishment, would've been so great to watch._

I hated hearing vampire thoughts - especially Bill's - but his comments had me wondering. When our bond had been open earlier in the evening, I could have sworn Eric was hurt; really terribly hurt. Was what I felt real? Did Bill know something about it? I pushed Quinn away hastily, needing his thoughts out of my head.

"Still can't stand hearing anyone else's thoughts, huh?" he asked, trying to be understanding even though he hated me pushing him away.

"Sorry," I shook my head.

Then I had my eyes closed and was concentrating, giving Bill the little push he needed to gloat about what happened to Eric. As soon as I did, I wished I hadn't. What I saw in his thoughts... it was so awful, I was suddenly glad I'd been able to take some of the pain for my bonded. No wonder he felt so terrible that night, being harmed so horribly... I vowed that de Castro would die for what he did to Eric.

When my eyes went to Eric, I could swear that he knew what I'd just found out; could see the pity written all over my face. He clearly didn't like it.

Then Selah walked back in, interrupting me before I could say anything. "Mom's happy for me to come home for a while," she grinned. "She was so relieved to hear that I'm OK." She glanced at Bill from the corner of her eye, loathing all over her face.

I had a sudden idea. "Eric, is it possible to make her resistant to any other vampire's glamor? So there's no way Bill can get to her again?"

He looked surprised by my question, but a moment later, he stood in front of her. He was silently playing with her mind, shielding her from other vampire's glamor, while leaving his own completely intact. After a few seconds, I could feel something change inside her, and I knew that any time she was glamored now, her mind would reset itself within a few hours, shaking off the outside influence. Then he added extra resistance to Bill, so her mind would no longer respond to his manipulation at all.

"You cannot be glamored," he finally said aloud, power surging through him as he did. "Not by anyone but me."

"I can't be glamored," she repeated back, processing what was happening as she did. "Thank you," she added then, clearly grateful. "You're Bill's Sheriff Eric, right? My memories of the last few months are fuzzy, but he talked about you a lot... you're the one Sookie left him for?"

"I didn't leave him for Eric," I corrected. "I left because... because... well, he did the same sort of things to me, as he's done to you."

She just nodded, trying to forget about it. "Can he be punished for any of this?" she quietly asked. "For what he did to me... and her..."

Eric nodded. "He placed all vampires in danger, by raising the suspicions of those around you. For that, he will be punished."

"That's all?" she pursed her lips.

"It will be more than enough," the Viking grinned widely. "I can assure you, he will regret the moment he met you by the time I finish with him."

"Good." She looked at Bill again from the corner of her eye, clearly angry. "You won't be able to date in this town ever again, either."

That was more like the Selah Pumphrey I remembered from high school - if anyone could start a malicious rumor that stuck, it was her.

Bill just snorted, but was otherwise silent and reaction-less... but I clearly 'heard' him think, _Don't need you, gonna have HER back soon._

I took a deep, slow breath, to stop the shudder and head-shake my body wanted to do in response to that.

"My car's next door, right?" Selah then checked.

"It is," Quinn confirmed. "We'll keep him here for a few minutes, so he won't bother you while you're leaving."

"And I order him to leave you alone," Eric added, seemingly for my benefit. "He has placed our kind in danger by his conduct with you."

"Thanks," she said again. She started to walk out, then turned around. "My memories are all fuzzy," she apologized, "but, um, I think he's gonna try to kill -"

As the words left her mouth, Bill shot out of the corner towards her. An instant before his hand would've connected with her throat, he was flung to the floor instead, landing flat on his back with Eric's bare foot on his chest. Quinn was only a yard away, having reacted slower than Eric, but his hyper-alert posture made it clear that he was there for backup, should Bill try anything else.

My neighbor glared up at the terrified girl, as though his death stare alone might shut her up.

"So it's true," her eyes were wide as saucers. "He's gonna kill you. He spent a couple nights fiddling with floorboards in his spare room, so they'll fall through when someone steps on them, and he's got this big portable spa tub underneath. He had tubs of silver powder delivered last week, and I think that's what he's gonna put in them. He didn't tell me the whole plan, but he keeps saying Sookie's gonna be his again, that once you're dead, she'll want to bond to him instead... he bought this drug for her, since he can't knock her out, um," she went to say 'with his mind powers', but stopped at the last second. "It only just clicked, that his rants about getting Sookie back and that trap door are connected... he's gonna try to kill you." She ended her breathless ramble abruptly.

"He has purchased powdered silver?" Eric asked curiously, as though this were news to him.

I could feel that in reality, his poking around in her mind had something to do with Selah's sudden realization that the various things she'd seen and heard were connected, but Eric managed to look completely stunned. Well, ever-so-slightly stunned, anyway - which was about as much facial expression as he ever had.

"It's down in his basement," she confirmed, "next to the spa tub. The floorboards above the tub are booby trapped. And there's a vial of liquid in the tin of teabags in his kitchen; that's the drug he bought. It's all there, if you wanna go look."

"I think I will," he glared down at Bill, then looked back to Selah. "Thank you for warning me. In appreciation, I will convey my formal protection upon you; all vampires in my Area will know that you are off-limits."

"Thanks," she smiled, then looked over to me, seeming almost friendly. "Be seeing you," she waved, smiling at me. Then she turned to leave.

"I will walk you to your car," Eric offered, seeming almost chivalrous. "I am heading that way anyway, to have a look around someone's basement. Keep Bill here until I return," he called over his shoulder as he walked out, confident Quinn and I could do that.

I made a quick 'down' motion with the palm of my hand, using my telekinesis to flatten Bill to the ground... not that he had dared move, with Eric still in earshot. Quinn came and sat next to me then, knowing he didn't need to stand guard any longer.

"You must let me go," my neighbor pleaded, quietly so Eric wouldn't hear. "He will kill me, Sookie."

"Because you were planning to kill him?" I arched an eyebrow at him. "Sounds fair to me."

"You don't understand," he pleaded, "I did this for you. Eric keeps you from your destiny. They both do," he glared over at Quinn.

I sighed loudly. "Let me guess, it's my destiny to get back together with you?"

"More than that. You belong in a palace, as a valued member of court, wearing magnificent gowns and using your talent to its best advantage. With me to guide you around the intricacies or court life, you -"

"No!" I snapped, staring at him. "It's a gilded cage, what you want for me. Once I'm in the hands of some vampire King or Queen, I'll never be free again. I'll have to do what they want, when they want, and it's not like they'll just let me leave any time I want. There's no way -"

"You would rather live like this? Impoverished, out in the backwoods, clad in rags, in such a shabby house? I want better for you, Sookie."

"Yes, I'd rather live like this!" I exploded. "Of course I would, I'm free! This is my Gran's house, where my human family have lived for a hundred-seventy years, and my fairy ancestors have had their _sidh_ for thousands... this place is special to me. And don't you dare get started on my clothes, I like the way I dress. And my house is homely, not shabby."

Thankfully, I could feel that Quinn agreed with me, on all counts. He liked the worn-in comfort of my home, where he could put his feet up on literally anything, and if I insisted on cutting all my jeans down to tiny shorts to cope with the Louisiana heat... well, he didn't exactly mind me walking around in so little. He didn't get jealous about other men seeing my body; shifters thought it natural to walk around naked, so the more I had exposed, the more normal it seemed to him. (It also seemed normal to him for other people to watch us having sex, but that one we were going to have a talk about, once we were alone again. I wasn't entirely comfortable with what had happened that night, and I wasn't going to let it happen again.)

"You have not seen your apartment in Felipe's palace," Bill told me smugly, "or the one I furnished for you in Sophie-Ann's palace. You have not seen the gowns and jewels I chose for you... or the lingerie," he looked even more pleased with himself. "You will change your mind, once you do."

"No, I won't," I replied wearily. "I'm happy here. I don't want fancy dresses, or to hang out with vampire royalty. None of that matters to me. If I wanted to use my 'gift' to make money, there's a hundred people I could blackmail, just in this town. Money isn't important to me, Bill. Can't you see that?"

He shook his head forcefully. "You don't know, you haven't tried it. Come with me to Felipe's palace, Sookie. See the apartment I chose for you, the fine furniture, the beautiful clothing... they are worthy of you. Live the life I have made for you for just a week, and you will never wish to return, I guarantee it. There is no-one left to keep you here, I saw to that. You are free to leave now, to have the life you deserve."

I stared at him in horror. "What do you mean, you 'saw to it'?" My stomach was churning, just wondering.

"Ah," he frowned. "A slip of the tongue. I meant, there is no-one to keep you here now. No-one holding you back."

"No-one... no-one like Gran?" I whispered.

"She loved you," he assured me, "but she could not see the possibilities for a talent like yours... the riches and fame it could bring you."

"Did you...? Did you...?" I couldn't finish that sentence.

He didn't answer me, just frowned again.

I slid off my couch, crawling across the floor 'til I was kneeling beside him. I put my hands on either side of his face then, forcing my way past his many barriers until I was in amongst his memories, seeing the things he'd tried hardest to hide from me.

"He sent René Lenier here," I gasped. "He glamoured him into coming to kill me... He was waiting out in the woods to rescue me, so he could be my hero again, but I wasn't here, and when he heard him killing Gran instead... he just stood there. He just listened. He thought it was best, getting me away from her, so he... he let her die. And he sent the Rattrays after me, glamoured them into almost killing me so I'd have to take his blood the first time. He thinks he loves me, but he's still just trying to complete his assignment, to bring me to court so he can be my handler there... he just wants to live in a palace and show me off, like I'm some part-fae trophy." I gasped then, seeing something even more shocking. "He's the one who told Felipe where to find Sophie-Ann... he's the one who got her killed. He only said he'd die for me because... because... he knew Victor wouldn't. He was their ally, his life would be spared... and mine, so he could keep me. He only said it so they'd know not to kill me, just everyone else."

I slid out of his mind again, appalled by all I'd just seen. I noticed a few things then, all at once. Firstly, that I'd been babbling as I looked around Bill's mind, telling Quinn the awful things I saw. Secondly, that Quinn was crouched on the floor beside me, his body wrapped around me, licking tears from my face. Thirdly, that Pam was in my front doorway, watching me. Lastly, that Eric was behind her.

It must've taken me quite a few minutes to get in and look around Bill's mind, I realized; far longer than it had felt to me.

Eric pushed past Pam, blurring across the room to stand beside Bill, stomping hard on his ribs. "Coward. Scoundrel," he muttered.

Bill was smiling, though. "You saw what she did. She must be sent to Felipe. She must be used carefully."

"Why?" Pam asked, looking studiously bored again.

"She can read our minds!" my neighbor insisted. "She must be stored somewhere where her ability is blocked, when we do not need -"

"Sookie can't read vampires." Pam's voice was a flat monotone, but she turned her head slightly and winked at me.

I stared at her in shock for a moment, then looked back and forth between her and Eric, trying to work out what was going on.

Eric gave me a tiny smirk, then turned to Bill. "How convenient, that you claim this when you have just earned such stern punishment. You may wish to sacrifice Sookie to save yourself, but I will not go along with your plan."

"But you saw," Bill sputtered. "You saw what she just did."

"I saw Sookie kneeling beside you and crying. Did you exaggerate your likely punishment to gain her sympathy?" Eric arched an eyebrow.

"He said you'll kill him," Quinn filled in, playing along. "She's so good-hearted, she still doesn't want him to die."

Eric snorted. "I will not put him to death. His suffering would be over in mere days, if I did that. No, I have better plans for him. We will take him to Fangtasia for interrogation, then find a suitable punishment. Sookie, did you see anything in Selah's memories that I ought know about?" he winked at me as he said it, and I realized it wasn't just the contents of Selah's thoughts he was asking me about.

"I might need a while to sift through everything I 'read' from her," I winked back at Eric. "Maybe Pam should take him to Fangtasia..." I knew Bill had never told Selah the other things I'd found out, and even now, there weren't many people I wanted to discuss things I read from vampire minds in front of - Bill certainly wasn't on that list, and I still wasn't sure if Pam was, despite what she'd just done for me.

"Then I will stay to wait for you," Eric agreed. "Pam, take Bill to Fangtasia and begin interrogating him. We know why he wished to kill me and how he planned to do it, but we don't know if he had co-conspirators... find out if he does."

"I don't!" Bill insisted. "It's just me. I just want Sookie back. You can't keep us apart, Eric! She will see what you are, and she will not want you. You are no man at all, now -"

He stopped abruptly as Eric stomped on him again, making a sickening crunching noise as he broke his ribs.

"OK, you're not doing this in my house," I glared at Eric. "Pam, take him away, please?" I released my fairy magic and Bill leapt away from Eric's bare feet, gluing himself to the wall on the opposite side of the room.

"No," Bill begged. "Sookie, you can't let them take me. I did this for you, so you -"

"So I can be prisoner in your King's palace?" I snapped. "I don't want that. I don't care how fancy the apartment and clothes are, or how much money I'd get, I'd still be a prisoner. That's not what I want. Leave me alone, Bill."

With that, Pam dragged him out at vampire speed. From my front door, I watched her bind him in silver, bundle him into the back of her car and drive away. I was pleased to see Bill go; knowing he had been spying on me all these weeks had already strained our friendship, and hearing his plans for me was bad enough... but my Gran, I couldn't forgive. Seeing his memories of her death - how it pleased him to have her out of the way, thinking how much easier his mission would be, once the only person who cared about me here was gone - had hardened my heart to him entirely.

"I can make his interrogation especially unpleasant?" Eric murmured in my ear. "I can punish him for all he has done to you?"

I turned to look at him, thinking for only a moment before I knew my answer. I gave a tiny nod, unable to speak around the lump in my throat.

"We will only have him for a day or two before Felipe frees him to resume spying on you," my ex told me, guiding me back inside as he did, "so I will have to work quickly. There was something else you wished to tell me?" he prompted.

"He reports to an underling of Victor's called Michael," I told him. "That's who he calls each morning. Other than that... did you hear what he said while you were gone? About wanting to take me to Felipe's palace? Having an apartment and clothes there for me?"

Eric nodded. "What I did not overhear, Quinn told me while you were working."

"That's why he's doing all this," I grumbled. "He wants me back, and he tells himself it's because he loves me, but really... he sees me as a meal ticket. If he's my handler, he'll be invaluable in court, so he tells himself that being a prisoner in the palace would be best for me, too... tells himself he's rescuing me from my impoverished life, giving me something better..."

"But you prefer your freedom," Eric smiled at me then, and his grin was like sunshine to me.

I beamed back, nodding.

Eric moved to slide past me then, heading out my front door.

"Wait," I stopped him. "I..." I couldn't work out how to say it. "I saw something else in Bill's thoughts... about you... you're hurt."

"A fantasy of his, no doubt," he smirked. "Love, I am fine."

He was lying.

I couldn't say how I knew it, but I did. The bond was closed, I couldn't 'hear' his thoughts the way I sometimes heard the thoughts of younger, weaker vampires - he had the power to block me any time he wanted, in both ways - and of course, his face betrayed no emotion whatsoever... but still, I was certain he was lying. It wasn't that I believed Bill's thoughts unquestioningly (if I did, I would believe that he loved me, instead of seeing that he convinced himself of that to justify taking me from everything that meant anything to me, for his own benefit) but something inside me said right now, Eric was bullshitting me.

I blocked his path, and before he could react, my hands were under his clothing, checking for injuries. He was as frozen as a statue, not moving, not breathing, just staring down at me in shock. Clearly, he hadn't expected this.

The thing I didn't expect, was the way his injuries would effect me. Feeling him so badly harmed, my own body reacted in shock.

"Oh God," I reeled back, pulling my hands away as though touching him hurt me. "What did he -"

Then my dinner was propelling itself upwards, and I was running, hoping I would somehow make it to my bathroom in time.


	61. Exposed

_Author's Note:Thank you all for bearing with me while I was away. It's tough writing a love story when your own personal 'love story' has just ended in spectacularly crappy fashion, so I had to take a break for a few weeks but I'm back now._

_I've deviated from canon a little here because I started writing this story before the last two books came out and made up my own take on things back then, which is too important to my overall storyline to change it to the 'official' line now. Apologies, fellow canon nerds. ;)_

* * *

As I felt the extent of Eric's injuries, the contents of my stomach started propelling themselves up my throat. I pulled my hands out from under his clothing and ran for my bathroom, knowing I wouldn't make it… but somehow, I got there just in time to heave violently into the toilet bowl.

_There goes dinner_, I thought.

When I finished vomiting, I realized my hair was down and probably needed to be washed now. I reached up to check, but it was pulled away from my face. As I felt around to figure out how that happened, I found a large hand holding my hair back. The hand was cold. Eric.

I heard movement and a second later, a glass of water appeared in my peripheral vision, held by a huge hand with olive skin and a web of faint scars. Quinn.

I took the water gratefully and rinsed out my mouth to get rid of the foul acidic taste. When I was done, I set the glass down next to me. I was kneeling on the cold tiles of my bathroom floor, hugging the toilet bowl. 'Driving the porcelain bus', Amelia would call it. I flushed and sat back on my haunches to look around. Quinn filled the doorway, looking concerned. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that Eric was crouched behind me, still holding my hair. When I turned and sat on the floor, he let got of it reluctantly.

I wasn't quite sure how I got there; I had been in the living room one second, then my bathroom the next. I had moved at vampire speed between the two, so I realized the vampire beside me must be responsible.

"Thanks," I said weakly to Eric.

He looked almost surprised. I guess it wasn't the reaction he expected.

"Eric, what happened to you?" I needed answers.

His eyes flickered to the door for an instant, then turned back to me as though he had no other option. I realized a moment later that he might not: Hunter told me a couple of nights ago that his injuries had weakened him so much, he wouldn't win a fight with my mate right now… and Quinn filled the entire doorway, leaving no space for anyone to slide past unless he let them.

"Felipe punished me for disobedience," he replied flatly. "I was lucky. He did not kill me and this is not permanent."

"But it's too much! Whatever you did, you didn't deserve _that_!"

"It is not unusual."

"Vampires use castration as a punishment for men who are loyal to a lover over their King or Queen," Quinn confirmed.

My eyes snapped to his. "You knew," I accused him.

"I heard rumors," he confessed, "but I couldn't get anyone who was there to confirm what happened. So many stories go around... I wasn't gonna tell you something that would upset you so much unless I was sure it's true. Not that it's my place to tell you at all," he glanced at Eric. "Then those girls turned up at Merlotte's... I figured it was just another tall tale. That's the truth; you can check."

My fiancé crouched down and inclined his head towards me, so I could touch his face. He knew I could delve much deeper into a person's mind if I touched them. He filled all the remaining space in my small bathroom and I suddenly felt claustrophobic.

I shook my head. "I believe you."

He got back up and leaned in the doorway again, giving Eric and I as much space as he could without leaving (or letting anyone else leave).

"But the other wound," I turned to face my ex again, "the one on your stomach… what happened?"

After a few seconds silence, Quinn once again answered. "He said something unwise," he stated simply, but when I gave him a puzzled look, he explained that, "Vampire punishments are all about removing the source of the problem. An arm for stealing, a leg for trespass, that kind of thing. You know the expression, 'to vent your spleen'? That's what they take for an angry outburst."

"What did you say?" I stared at Eric until he finally, reluctantly answered.

"That Felipe is a weak King. That your injuries prove his ineffectiveness; you were under his formal protection. That the fae have no respect for his rule and neither do I. That he could not even avenge you as a real King would."

"You said all that and lived?" Quinn burst out laughing. "Fucking hell."

"He did not wish it," Eric smiled wryly. "But it was an act of war against his Kingdom, her being taken. My words are true," he chuckled a little.

I couldn't see the funny side of it, though. "This all happened because of me," my voice was a shaky whisper; the last few weeks were finally starting to make sense. "You knew he was going to do this. You said you'd be back but you wouldn't be able to see me. This is why."

He nodded. "It was the most likely penalty. I do not want you to see me like this." He sounded almost ashamed then.

"Just before you left, you said you did something high-handed... made arrangements so he couldn't kill you and take me. What did you do?"

"I made a deal with Stan and Russell. If I died, you would work for them to pay off a fictional debt of mine, 3 months a year each. You would have the other 6 months to yourself and they would keep you well guarded. They both agreed that no sexual demands would be placed on you, that humans you caught would be turned over to the police, that you would work no more than 6 hours a day, 6 days a week, and that nobody would take your blood. You would've been paid well, you wouldn't be a slave. It was the best I could do for you if I was gone."

Quinn thought it was a clever plan, I 'heard'; one of the few ways Eric could've kept me from his King's grasp if he died.

I couldn't take it all in yet, but my ex was being forthcoming for once, so I decided to ask the question I most needed him to answer. "Eric, when the fairies had me, where were you? You never told me why you didn't come."

"I was detained." He forced the words out, his face showing signs of actual pain as he did.

"By Felipe?" I checked.

He nodded. "He had his lackeys call me into a meeting. I was locked in. I still do not know whether Bill called him first, or if he knew what had happened to you through some other means. But I will find out." A flicker of cruel glee passed over his otherwise-somber face then. Bill was his prisoner right now, because he'd been planning to kill Eric and take me to their King.

"So Felipe locked you up and stopped you from coming to rescue me?"

He nodded again.

"Could you feel what was happening to me?"

Dark red tears rolled down his face as he nodded once more.

"Oh God," I whimpered. I never take the Lord's name in vain, but I do beg for His help sometimes. "So you felt everything that happened to me but you couldn't do anything about it?"

As he nodded again, I wriggled closer to him. I pulled his face towards me and licked his tears away, figuring it was the least I could do.

"I'm so sorry. Why would Felipe do that? Why wouldn't he let you rescue me?"

"He was going to rescue you himself and tell you that I was with a fangbanger instead."

"So Felipe thought it was his big opportunity to split us up?" I was suddenly fuming. "What a jerk! I think I'm actually glad he didn't get to me before Niall and Bill did. I thi-" The look on Eric's face stopped me mid-rant. "What? What is it?"

Eric didn't respond, and I assumed he was mad because I said the wrong thing.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have said that," I conceded.

"I don't think that's it," Quinn said quietly. I stared at him for a long moment before turning back to my ex.

"Eric, what is it? What's wrong?" I asked as kindly as I could, because for the first time ever, the Viking looked almost fragile.

"Felipe got there in time." His voice broke as he said it.

"What do you mean? Was he there before Niall and Bill? I didn't see him."

"He was there before you woke up, before they started..." He made a pained expression and stopped speaking. His voice was heavily accented now; I had to concentrate to understand him.

"I didn't see him there. Was he in the other room with Tray?" This wasn't making any sense to me.

"He was outside."

"Was he by himself? Is that why he didn't come in?"

"He had three of his men with him," his voice was barely a whisper.

"Eric, this makes no sense. You're saying Felipe and three of his men got there before Lochlan and Neave even started..." I couldn't say it. "But they just stood around outside? That makes no sense. How do you even know this? Who told you?"

"Sookie," red tears ran down Eric's face again. "Please just believe me."

"No, this makes no sense," I was starting to feel angry. I was missing something crucial here. "I don't get it. Did Felipe tell you that? I think he was winding you up, that just... it makes no sense."

"He had his phone," he choked out.

"You're saying you know he was there because he called to tell you?" I sounded almost as confused as I felt. "Why would he even -" Then something occurred to me. "Did he tell you what was happening to me?"

He nodded again.

"Why would he do that?" I just couldn't make it all add up in my mind.

After a few seconds, Quinn spoke. "It's the only way to torture someone like Eric," he said gently. "Nothing anyone could say or do to him would work, he's too strong for that. You're the only thing they could use to hurt him."

They exchanged a look and it seemed like something passed between them, but I wasn't sure what it was.

"The things those fairies did to you are Felipe's idea of foreplay," Quinn continued grimly. "He knew Eric could feel everything through the bond, but being able to describe it all while he stood by and watched... let's just say, he would've been very excited. I don't even want to imagine his comments about it, the stuff they did would barely whet his appetite."

I gave him a questioning look.

"He told me his plans for Frannie, if I didn't help him. I still have nightmares about it," he shuddered.

"What were his plans?" I asked, although I was almost certain I didn't want to know. I'd caught just a hint of his memories of that time — of what it had taken for him to betray me the way he did — and that alone had made me queasy, but I needed to know.

"He likes women with a lot of fight in them," Quinn rasped, "because he can do so much more to them before they break completely and just let it happen. He likes to do the kind of damage they have to look at in the mirror every day, to remind them of him. His favorites, he sends back out into the world like that, so that everyone they ever meet their whole lives gets to see his handiwork."

"You forgot the mind games," Eric added. "Befriending girls and being the perfect suitor for a few months so that when he rapes them and cuts them up, it's someone they love and trust doing it to them. He loves the betrayal. That is his favorite."

I shuddered. "So he had something like that planned for me?" I asked Eric shakily.

He nodded and spoke bitterly. "He was going to rescue you after they'd broken you in to his liking. They were just starting when Niall and Bill got there, he wanted about an hour more. He was going to say I betrayed you and stay to help you through it, listen to you cry about what they did, that kind of thing. Then once you trusted him, you'd find out what he's really like."

"But why was he torturing you? Was he interrogating you about something? Couldn't you have just told him what he wanted to know?"

"It was my punishment for getting you to pledge to me, so he could not take you."

"She didn't actually pledge to you," Quinn interjected testily, but nobody paid him any attention.

"You wouldn't let him take me, so when I was with Lochlan and Neave you were locked up, feeling my pain through the bond and hearing Felipe describe what was happening to me, while he watched and enjoyed himself?"

"Four times," Eric shuddered.

I realized what he meant by "enjoyed himself" a couple of seconds later and vomited again. My bonded held my hair with one hand and rubbed my back with the other as I did. After I rinsed my mouth and flushed, he spoke again.

"You did not break," he said proudly. "After all they did to you, you did not break. You could have gone another hour and you would not have broken."

I started crying. "Why do you keep saying that? I wanted to die. I wanted them to kill me. You felt that, didn't you? Through the bond?"

"I felt it," his voice cracked, "but I also felt defiance. They made you speak and you told them to go to hell." He smiled proudly.

I racked my brain for a second, before I remembered. "I told them they were going to die."

He beamed at me. "And they did."

"Why are you so happy about that? Why does that matter so much to you?" I stared at him but he didn't say anything.

Eventually, Quinn answered for him. "He broke, but you didn't," he told me softly. Eric glared at him. "I'm not judging; I broke too. I saw what he planned to have done to Frannie and I sold out Sookie and everyone she cares about to save her from him." He looked like he was going to cry. "Nothing he could do to me would make me do that, but watching them start in on my sister..." he couldn't say another word.

Eric nodded as though Quinn's admission made it alright to say something, then looked back at me. "I betrayed you, too. I begged Felipe's guards to stake me, even though I knew he would take you if I died. I am sorry." His voice was a strangled whisper and he was crying again.

"I'm really glad they didn't," I told him.

"Oh, they did, half a dozen times," he laughed bitterly, "just never in the right place."

I sat digesting Eric's revelations for a minute. No wonder it killed him to talk about where he was while Lochlan and Neave had me.

"I'm so sorry," I said to both of them. "Eric, you don't owe me any apology. If I felt you hurting so badly that you wanted to die and I couldn't do anything to help, I'd want to die too." I stroked his hair and licked his tears away again. Then I turned to the doorway. "John, if you're ever in that position again, where you have to choose between letting Frannie get hurt, or bringing trouble to my door, promise me you'll make the same choice?"

"No," he said firmly. "I won't betray you again."

"I'm serious," I told him equally firmly. "You wouldn't be the man you are any more if you stood by and watched someone you love get hurt. If it happens again, just tell me what's going on. That's all I ask."

He stared at me for a long time, then nodded.

I turned my attention back to Eric. "Why did Felipe punish you the way he did? Just for trying to come and save me when you could feel me being hurt? Why wasn't it punishment enough that his men staked you?"

"He ordered me not to go to you but I kept trying anyway. I disobeyed him. I refrained from killing any of his guards because I knew that if I did, he would have reason to kill me and take you, but I did everything else I could to get to you. I escaped eventually."

"I did hear about that part of it," Quinn chuckled, his eyes twinkling.

"I had to fly out of a building," was all Eric said.

"He crashed through three floors and the roof. All steel-reinforced concrete. He broke right through them and came out with barely a scratch, is what I heard." Even if I wasn't a telepath, I would've known my fiancé was impressed.

Eric just shrugged. "I will not do that again, it's too expensive."

I smiled. "Pragmatic."

He nodded. "No point impressing people if it sends you broke. I cannot afford to destroy a building like that very often."

"But why does Felipe even want me?" I asked. "Is this about the breeding scheme?"

"No," he sighed. "That is merely his latest plot to take you from me. He only created that scheme when it became clear that he would not be able to kill me for my actions during the Fairy War."

"If anyone deserves to die for their actions during the Fairy War," I muttered darkly, "it's not you."

That prompted nodding all around.

"He sent that decree as well," I realized. "He's been trying for a long time to take me from you."

"I have something that he does not," Eric smiled, "and that infuriates him. He pretends there are good reasons… Your gift would be useful for his businesses, he collects people who are part-fae to feed on, and he would enjoy playing his games with one who has as much fight in them as you do… Plus having you would give him leverage over both of us," he glanced at Quinn, "but I think he mostly wants you because I will not let him have you. I have a telepath and he does not."

I could tell there was more to the story, but even though I kept looking at him, Eric didn't say any more.

Finally, my fiance explained. "Eric's a lot stronger than Felipe, especially with all your blood he's had. He must've been strong before, but with your blood too... well, he's stronger than almost any other vampire in America. He's been very quiet about it, so the building stunt surprised everyone, although I think Felipe suspected. He sees Eric as a rival and seems to be running a campaign to weaken him."

"He is a fool," my ex muttered. "He leaves me no choice but to take what is his, when I do not even want it."

I nodded then; it was finally starting to make sense. Eric could be King — he was easily strong enough (well, usually, anyway), and I knew many in Louisiana would prefer him — so de Castro felt threatened by him. "So your punishment was part of his campaign?"

"Of course," he said simply.

"I heard it was done very publicly," Quinn added softly. "Felipe made a big spectacle of it, lots of witnesses. I'm pretty sure one of my partners was called in to run the trial, if you could even call it that, but he wouldn't talk about it. Couldn't. Everyone was ordered to keep quiet."

I looked at Eric and saw in his face that it was true. "That's what I felt through the bond. That night when Bill called you from here."

I remembered what I had felt that night: so much pain, but also humiliation and shame. I was sure Eric had been subjected to some sort of sexual violence, but I hadn't imagined anything this bad. Thinking about it happening in a room full of bloodthirsty vampires... as soon as my brain formed that mental picture, I was vomiting again.

Eric held my hair, and Quinn refilled my water glass from the basin so it was there when I needed it. I could only imagine how revolting the smell was for both of them; it was barely tolerable for me, and I didn't have super-senses like they did.

"Thanks," I mumbled. "I need to get out of here, if I keep smelling vomit I'll keep being sick."

I did feel better, though: I finally knew why Eric hadn't come to rescue me from the fairies, and as horrible as it was, I was glad to know.

As I stood up, I thought of something I needed to say. "Eric, after everything Felipe's done to all of us, I want to help you fight him any way I can. If my blood will give you enough strength to make a difference in anything to do with him, I'll give you as much as I can. Even though we're not together any more, I'll feed you any time it helps you fight that bastard."

He gaped at me for a long time, before finally saying, "Thank you," his voice reverential.

Then I turned my attention to Quinn. "I'm really sorry, John," I said gently. "I can't stand by and let Felipe hurt any of us any more. Eric is the only one who's strong enough and crafty enough to fight him, but I have to do anything I can to help. If my blood makes it easier, giving it to him is the least I can do."

Quinn just nodded. "Don't apologize, I understand. Anything you can do to help stop that creep is fine by me."

There was a frisson of something when he said it, but I couldn't work out what it was.


	62. Lifeblood

_A/N: Thank you to everyone for your kind words re my present personal circumstances. I don't often get time to respond to reviews or PMs (any free time I have goes into writing this story) but I read them all and love hearing from you._

* * *

Eric, Quinn and I headed towards the living room. I had been in the bathroom throwing up, after I found out what had happened to Eric and why he wasn't able to come and save me from Lochlan and Neave. It was awful, but I was also really glad that I knew now.

I looked down and my pretty printed blouse had a couple of spots of vomit on it. I sighed, then realized this was a problem I could solve. I concentrated, clicked my fingers and the top was pristine again. Or to be more accurate, the one I'd been wearing no longer existed and an identical new one took its place. Eric was watching as I did.

"That is a great power to have," he smiled at me. "It must be useful."

"It's my favorite," I admitted. "It's so much fun conjuring up whatever I want to wear. I can see a picture of something and be wearing it two seconds later. No need to go shopping, and everything fits perfectly. You have no idea what a relief that is, not having to choose between things that fit my boobs and things that fit my waist and shoulders any more. I just snap my fingers and they fit everywhere. The hair part of it is the best though, I can just wash it and snap my fingers and it's perfect. Saves me half an hour every time. Although there are definitely times when I think one of my other powers is my favorite. You know, this one."

I reached over and casually ran my fingertips along his forearm to demonstrate which power I meant. I didn't have to make a ball of energy any more, I could just pull the energy I needed straight from the air around me. The ball of energy was great for building anticipation, but sometimes the element of surprise was even better. As I did, he stopped mid-stride, threw his head back and let out a long, low growl.

"That still works on me," he marveled a moment later. "Even though I am incomplete, it still worked."

"Of course," I shrugged. "I'm just sending energy in through your nerve endings to your brain. As long as you've got nerve endings and a brain, it'll work. No need for other body parts at all."

As we continued walking through the hall, I could practically hear the wheels turning in my ex's head, as he realized that my powers could make his recovery time a great deal more enjoyable than he expected. Not that I was going to, of course.

"Your new fairy powers are very impressive," he told me as we strolled into the living room.

"Thanks," I responded politely.

When we got there Quinn was already seated and Eric took a chair across the room from him. I chose a seat halfway between them and sat down too. There was a long, uncomfortable silence then, because none of us knew what to say next.

"This is why you've had the bond closed?" I finally asked Eric. "So I didn't find out about this?"

He just nodded.

"You can open it again, now," I offered.

He shook his head.

I realized a moment later why he wouldn't. "You're still in that much pain?"

"Until I am fully healed."

"Vampires grow back from the inside out," Quinn explained. "When anything's amputated, the wound doesn't close over 'til everything inside the skin is complete again. It's pretty gruesome. My business partner Sancho lost a finger in a fight with a wolf a couple years ago and we all had to watch the damn thing grow back, inch by inch, with bone poking out the whole time. Too proud to just stick a Band-Aid over it like everyone else does," he shook his head, rolling his eyes as he did.

As he was speaking, I remembered something. "Hunter said I can heal you," I reminded Eric.

He nodded. "Dr. Ludwig told me that a full dose of a fairy's lifeblood would heal me quickly, but it must be fresh to work."

"Oh, that's why you haven't asked," I realized aloud.

He nodded again.

"You've got a problem with that?" Quinn asked, surprised and disappointed by my narrow-mindedness.

"Of course I've got a problem with that! If he does that, won't I be... well, dead?"

My fiancé gave me a confused look. "No."

"But if he takes all my lifeblood…"

He realized the source of my confusion then. "Babe, your lifeblood isn't the blood that keeps you alive, it's the blood that lets you create life."

It took me a few seconds to work out what he meant, then my hand flew over my mouth. "Oh, you poor thing!" I apologized to Eric.

Quinn looked even more confused. "Poor thing? What on earth are you talking about?"

"That'd be so gross for you," I commiserated, "having to feed on me when I'm all smelly like that... I'm so sorry."

Now they were both giving me weird looks.

Eric was the one to break the strange silence. "Bill never fed on you then?"

"Of course not! He couldn't stand to be in the same room as me, when I was so... well, stinky."

My ex gave me another look of disbelief. "He wasted that? The richest, most potent -"

"No, it makes sense," Quinn thought aloud, interrupting him. "If he was trying not to get hooked on her, keeping away from her then would be necessary. The way she smells…"

I just snorted. "It's not like you can stand to touch me then, either. Anyone with a keen sense of smell avoids me, even Sam."

"Sookie, you don't smell bad." My fiancé was giving me an extra-intense look.

"Right, training's strictly non-contact at that time of the month because I smell so great."

He shook his head at me. "Don't you know how tigers react to blood? I kept my distance because if we had one of those fights that ended with you on top of me, whispering 'are you sure you wanna fight me' with your breasts pressed against my face, I -"

"I only did that once!" I protested. "For about two seconds! And you started it, you were staring at my chest all the time, that day."

"Oh. " He seemed confused for a moment. "In my head, every sparring match ends with you on top of me," he shot me a goofy grin.

"It's less than a quarter of the time, and I really have to work to get you there," I corrected.

"Well, if it happened when I can smell your lifeblood... there's a high chance the tiger part of me would take over and go for the blood. I probably can't even sleep in the same bed as you then, or you'll wake to find me lapping it up in my sleep."

I thought about that for all of a second, and had to suppress a huge grin. Waking up to the feel of his prickly tongue against my tenderest parts didn't exactly sound bad... especially when I started wondering how good a mood I'd be in all day, if I was basically woken by my first orgasm of the day, coming within a minute or two of regaining consciousness...

"Oh..." I could feel myself blushing bright red. "Um, we should talk about that later." I couldn't help licking my lips then, and I knew I had to change the subject. "So Bill said vampires hate that," I muttered. "That I smelled really bad and should keep away from him then."

"An easy way to get a week off from his assignment each month," Eric speculated, "and make you feel less desirable, at the same time."

"So it's not true, what he said?" I double-checked. "The blood's not rotten and spoiled and revolting to y'all?"

Quinn started laughing then. "Oh, it's so not true."

In a split-second, I caught exactly how untrue it was. I 'heard' that when he'd lived in a vampires' nest while he fought in the pits, his super-hearing meant he learned far more than he wanted to know about their feeding habits — including the arrangements they had with every female prostitute for miles around. Apparently each woman would come by once a month, spend a few hours feeding one or more of the vamps, then return to work a few hundred dollars richer, because they had some tricks for making the blood all shed at once. (Sadly, I didn't catch what they were). Far from hating it, the vamps would go to great lengths to get the women they wanted: tracking their cycles, offering them extra money if they made private arrangements instead of turning up at the nest, squabbling with one another over who had 'dibs'…

"It is useful to us," Eric added. "Lifeblood sustains us far longer, so we can feed less often. Even newborns are well-nourished for almost a week on a single meal of it, so they aren't out looking for a fresh neck each night. It keeps them out of trouble."

"So vampires do that a lot?" I couldn't keep the disbelief from my voice. "Y'all don't hate it?"

"No, we really don't." A faint smile played on Eric's lips.

"And if I let you do that... it would heal you right away?"

"Yes, I would heal over the next day, as I slept. Lifeblood has all that is needed to build new flesh and breathe life into it. It is richer... has more nutrients. And as long as it's fresh, the life force in it... You are right," he glanced at Quinn, "that Bill may have avoided her then lest he become addicted. Her blood is amazing, when I think what her lifeblood would be like..." he got a dreamy look on his face.

"I'm so sorry I can't do that for you," I apologized, knowing it just wasn't possible. "I wish I could help you, but… well, you know."

My ex nodded solemnly.

"Why can't you?" Quinn was genuinely puzzled.

I just stared at him, wondering what he was playing at.

"After Bill forced her," Eric answered, his voice suddenly strained and shaky, "she never allowed him to touch her that way, ever again. And now that I have done the same thing, she will -"

"Oh, it wasn't the same!" I protested. "It wasn't the same at all."

"You said no and I kept going," my ex rasped. "I -"

"It wasn't the same," I stopped him, then sat silently for a moment, trying to figure out why the two experiences seemed so different to me. Finally, I realized what it was. "Eric, if I'd been in pain, you would've stopped, wouldn't you? Like if I'd started crying or -"

"Of course! I would never knowingly hurt you. I did not realize you meant it, you were so aroused by what I did that -"

I glared at him to shut up, and thankfully he did. "What you did isn't right," I began. "You did hurt me, but not the way Bill did… I don't even know how what Bill did was… well, that. I wasn't unwilling, I wanted to be with him again, just… the way he did it… He could feel that I wasn't ready," tears started rolling down my face, "and he liked that… he did it harder, just so it would hurt more… I was crying so much I couldn't breathe, and even feeling me suffocate on my own mucus just spurred him on… he liked that he was hurting someone, liked that I was so scared I just froze and let him…" I stopped speaking to sob for a while, leaning into my fiancé's warm embrace. He had appeared beside me on the couch at some point, and I was grateful to have him there.

When I finally looked up, Eric was in tears too; blood sliding down his face, then disappearing into the fabric of his tight black t-shirt. His lips moved ever-so-slightly, as though he were saying something under his breath. Whatever it was, even Quinn didn't understand, and he could hear every word clearly. My ex was speaking that ancient, heavily-accented language he used when he was upset.

"You wouldn't hurt me like that, would you?" I checked, already knowing the answer.

He shook his head, glancing at me briefly as he did. Then he was suddenly at my feet, sitting on the floor with his arms wrapped around my legs and his head in my lap. "Never," he managed to sniffle.

"I know," I murmured, combing out his blood-stained hair with my fingers. "I know you weren't trying to hurt me."

"If I had realized you meant it…" he trailed off, clinging to me. "I needed you to want me again, so that is all I saw. I didn't want to hear you say no, so I didn't, but… all I wanted was to please you. And I did the opposite. I felt how you were afterwards… how much I hurt you… I am so sorry, my love. I will not do this again, not to anyone. You have my word."

The three of us sat there in silence for a long while, my fingers playing with Eric's hair while my other hand was entwined with Quinn's. I'd been so upset, talking about what Bill did to me, but a sense of calm quickly descended over me. I snuggled closer to my fiancé, savoring the warmth of his arm around my shoulders and his other hand wrapped around mine. It felt like everything was right now; like nothing could go wrong while I was there with him.

"I wish I could do this for you, Eric," I whispered, not sure he was listening. "I want to make it all better."

"Why can't you?" my mate asked.

I gave him a funny look. "You know why not."

"No, I don't," he corrected. "If I knew, I wouldn't ask."

I stared at him in shock, waiting for him to add it up in his mind — to realize what I would have to do with another man to heal my ex — but he just stared back at me, still puzzled.

"What are you waiting for me to do?" he asked me. "You're looking at me like I'm supposed to do something now."

"Don't you have a problem with me doing that with someone else?" I couldn't keep the note of disapproval out of my voice.

"Am I meant to?" he was confused, I could 'hear' that.

"Yes!" I snapped, surprising even myself with the anger in my voice. "You're not meant to just pass me 'round like some... some..."

"I'm meant to tell you not to do this?" he checked.

I nodded.

"And that I haven't... you feel like I don't care about you?"

I thought about it for a moment, realized he was right, then nodded again.

"Why?" he gave me a puzzled look, then thought he'd figured it out. _Wow, he's no good at that? Sheesh, he's had a thousand years to learn. Well, if you need me to give you an excuse to get you out of it, I'll come up with something for you._

"No, no, it's nothing like that! He's fine at that. Good at it, even. Great, really. Not as good as you but that's mostly 'cause-" I abruptly stopped rambling, realizing I was making an ass of myself. "I'm gonna shut up now," was all I said after that.

It was too late though; Eric's head had snapped up out of my lap as soon as I said it, and now he was staring at me.

"He is better at pleasuring you with his mouth than I am?" He looked stunned, and I could tell there was no way he'd let that go without an answer.

"Forget I said anything," I pleaded. "Both of you."

I glanced over at Quinn as I said it, and for some reason my fiancé looked very pleased with himself. I could see exactly where the phrase, 'the cat that got the cream' came from — no-one could look quite as self-satisfied as a smug feline.

"What does he do that I do not?" my ex demanded. "Is there something he does differently? Something you like more?"

"Eric," I groaned.

"It has been centuries since a woman criticized my technique. I have been praised by thousands… tens of thousands, in fact. Even as a human, I practiced on -"

"Fine, I'll tell you!" I exploded, not wanting to hear another word about all the women who loved Eric's skills so much. "You've got heaps more practice, I know that, I can tell. He just thinks 'yum yum yum' the whole time, and I hear that, and it makes it better. That's all."

That didn't bother my fiancé at all; in fact, he was thrilled that I liked 'hearing' him enjoy pleasuring me so much.

"You like him better because he finds you tasty?" Eric actually looked stunned, for once. "I can assure you, I find your taste -"

"Shut up!" I snapped. "I'm not talking to you both about this. I'm just not."

Quinn burst out laughing, pulling me into his lap and kissing my neck. Eric moved away from me as he did, suddenly very interested in the well-worn carpet he was sitting on. My fiancé shared his thoughts about the taste of my juices with me for a moment, savoring the smell of my body's involuntary reaction to that, then mercifully changed the subject.

"I won't leave you alone with him," he whispered in my ear, "because he has a history of not listening to you when you stay stop. But as long as I'm within earshot, at least, I don't have a problem with you doing this. Assuming you want to?"

I poked around in his mind for a second before I answered, making sure I understood what he meant. I 'heard' that he really was OK with me offering Eric my 'lifeblood' to heal him, but it was only one act with one person at one time that he was permitting; he wasn't giving me a blanket permission slip to do things with other people, and never would. I wasn't sure what was more reassuring about that: knowing that his ideas of faithfulness were actually pretty similar to my own, or knowing that there was a little wriggle room there, so long as I asked him first. I could feel that there were definite limits — that there were some things he would never agree to me doing with anyone else (although he wasn't worried about them because most weren't possible with Eric; some due to his present state, and some due to him being a vampire). I could also feel that he was only offering to be 'within earshot' rather than in the same room this time in case the latter made me too uncomfortable, but that if I was doing something solely for sexual reasons he would only agree if he was included in my plans. In his mind, experiences we shared could bring us closer together, even if some of those experiences involved other people. I wasn't sure I believed that, but since he'd done things like this before and I hadn't, I figured I should trust him.

I nodded, turning in his lap so I could look him in the eye. "He's only hurt like that because of me… I have to do something."

"In your situation, I'd do the same thing," he smiled. "But be warned that if someone else has had their paws on you, I'll want to reclaim you afterwards." He gave me a meaningful look, reminding me how he'd reclaimed me last time.

"I can handle that," I giggled, squirming in his lap like a schoolgirl on Santa's knee.

"Well OK then," he grinned, then gently kissed the wound on my neck to remind me what we were to each other now.

"I think I want you to actually be there, though," I clarified. "I feel like that would be less weird for me. Is that OK?" But what I really meant was, 'If I did something with someone else by myself, I'd worry the whole time that you were going to be upset with me and wouldn't really enjoy it'.

"Sure." He sounded completely neutral, but I could feel his relief. He hadn't relished the idea of listening to me with someone else; it was something he could tolerate if he had to, so long as there were very definite limits on what I did, but saying he wouldn't enjoy it was an understatement — it would be torture for him. But being there with me, touching me, kissing me, helping me through anything I found difficult… that was a different matter entirely; something he would actually enjoy… a lot. I could already feel how much he liked that idea, which just made me want to squirm in his lap to tease him.

I turned back to Eric then, intending to ask whether that was OK with him, but a single glance told me that it was. He was wearing that smirking grin that said he had me exactly where he wanted, which usually only happened when we were alone and wearing a lot less clothing, but was otherwise exactly like this: it invariably involved me agreeing to something sexual and slightly perverted…

I had caught my ex staring at my chest, but he didn't seem to mind — in fact, he lingered long enough to make me blush, before finally raising his eyes to meet mine. He was leaning back on his elbows now, so his incredible body was stretched out across my living room floor, showing off every perfectly-formed part of him to its best advantage… as he surely knew. I had a few seconds of wandering-eye problems myself then, finding the curves of his biceps and the plane of his stomach simply magnetic. When our eyes eventually met, I felt the most electric erotic charge: he looked like he wanted to devour me, and I was liking that idea more and more. I kept thinking about what we would do the next time I got my period, and the more I considered it, the more my backside wriggled involuntarily against my fiancé's crotch, exciting us both.

Even watching me grind against another man's rapidly-growing erection wasn't bothering Eric now, which was so odd I almost stopped out of shock. I expected a jealous tantrum - or worse - but instead he just seemed to be enjoying the show. It got even weirder a second later, when my fiancé casually brought a hand up to my breast, gave it a gentle massaging squeeze, then swept his thumb over the nipple to tease me. A tiny moan escaped before I could stop it, but when my eyes locked to my ex's again to see his reaction, he just licked his lips slowly, the tip of his tongue caressing his fangs as he did. That tiny gesture made lust surge through me, as all my luscious memories of those fangs in my flesh came flooding back to me.

His smirk turned to a triumphant grin then, and I realized he was proving a point, showing me how much he could turn me on without even touching me… and as much as his games usually bothered me, this time, I didn't want him to stop at all.


	63. Others

Eric wisely decided to leave as soon as we'd agreed that whenever I next could, I would give him a full dose of my 'life blood', in the hope that I was fairy enough to heal him… which turned out to be a very intimate act indeed. After lingering just long enough to prove to everyone present that I didn't exactly mind the idea, he peeled himself off my living room floor and stood up again.

"Thank you, love," he reached for my hand. "I will be counting the days."

I giggled as he kissed the back of my hand, squirming where I was still sitting in my fiancé's lap as he did. Surprisingly, it didn't bother Quinn that another man was touching me — if anything, the way I was rubbing against him was just making him excited. I glanced over my shoulder, needing to see on his face what I'd already 'heard' in his thoughts, and he just smiled at me.

_Jealousy doesn't work the way people think it does, _he silently explained. _When you start trying things with other people involved… often, things you thought would make you insane with jealousy are just hot, and things you thought would be no big deal are the ones that make you crazy. And the feelings are different for everyone… like there's no way I would ever let anyone else be the genetic father of our cubs, but I've met a few men who get really turned on by the idea of someone else impregnating 'their' woman. _

My only response to that was to think once more, how odd shifter customs were.

_Actually, I was mostly thinking about humans_, he corrected. _Don't worry, I wouldn't. Apart from everything else, occasionally we get lucky and a kid a shifter has with a human is two-natured after all… no-one knows why or how it happens, just that it sometimes does. It doesn't work out well if both of the cub's legal parents are human and there's no-one around to help them when they start changing, though. It's one of our strictest rules, that you only get a human pregnant if you've taken her as your mate; too much danger of exposing what we are otherwise._

I nodded slightly, taking all that in as Eric released my hand. Communicating with each other telepathically was much faster than speaking aloud now; we could send each other whole sentences or even paragraphs in an instant, rather than 'talking' word by word in each other's heads. I liked that.

I also liked knowing there were definite limits to what my mate would let me do with anyone else. I'd already figured out that while he was happy to indulge my curiosity about threesomes, he wasn't OK with me doing anything one-on-one with anyone else; to him, it was being included in my experimentation that made it OK for him. I'd also just realized that in his mind Eric was now by far the most suitable person for us to experiment with; apart from the fact that I'd been with him before (which was important because Quinn knew I wouldn't sleep with someone new lightly), his present state limited what he could do with me, all-but-guaranteeing that my fiancé would get to play exactly the role he wanted when the big day came.

Eric moved to leave then, and I turned my attention back to him.

"Bye," I called out softly, watching him saunter out of my living room at human pace. But just as he got to the door, I realized something. "Wait!" I ordered, and he stopped and turned to face me immediately, although he didn't look happy about it. "Eric, after what the King did to you… what I saw in those girls' heads when they came to Merlotte's… you couldn't have actually done that, could you?"

His brows knit, and then he had that carefully blank expression again. "I fed on them," he confessed. "That is all."

"But the other stuff I 'heard'… it was all so detailed… how did that get there, if you didn't have sex with them? How would they know what you look like naked, even?"

"Many people have seen me naked, love," he smirked, a little of his old swagger returning. "I have no problem with being bare."

"Well, yes, obviously," I blushed, my brain making a far-too-vivid picture of unclothed Eric. "But they were only in town for a couple of nights, and you haven't been wandering around naked since you were punished, have you? Pam said you weren't spending as much time with fangbangers as you usually do." I couldn't keep the note of irritation out of my voice. "That's why, isn't it?"

"No, Pam said his 'appetites were diminished'," Quinn interrupted, chuckling a little.

"I can assure you, none of my _appetites_ are any less than usual," Eric huffed back. "It is merely harder to satisfy them, now."

"Missing out on your nine minutes of fun a night, huh?"

"Stop it," I chided my fiancé. "Don't be mean."

"Why? If he tapes a performance like that and lets the whole world see it, he deserves to be teased about it."

I rolled my eyes and turned my attention back to my ex. I almost apologized for my mate's merciless mocking, then realized he was right; Eric had taped us together and let everyone working at his club see it, so he deserved whatever teasing he got. I knew he could and often did last a lot longer, although now that he was Sheriff again, he was certainly more economical with his time than he'd been when he was cursed. Still, if he could get the job done to everyone's satisfaction a little faster than some, well, it was better than not having time to do it at all.

"Eric, how did those girls know all that? You weren't naked in front of them, were you?"

He huffed, looking trapped for a moment, then came up with an idea. "They bought my calendar, didn't they? All women who visit my club buy my calendar. I'm sure they studied it in great detail, too." He was looking pleased with himself again.

I snorted in annoyance. "Don't bullshit me, there was plenty in their heads that they didn't get from your darn calendar. Tell me the truth."

"Pam did it," he blurted out then. "Pam has glamoured all my meals to make sure my reputation is preserved. She insists it is bad for business when I spend less time entertaining the vermin, so she plants convincing memories to make sure they still praise my talents."

I nodded, somehow knowing he was being honest now. "It wasn't like regular glamour though… the visuals and sounds were too detailed…"

"Security footage," he filled in. "She uses security footage to save time. It makes the fake memories far more detailed, so they are more convincing when they brag. To create memories that detailed would take hours, otherwise."

"Including the footage of me," I realized aloud.

"I suppose so. You are the only one I have said is best… if that was in their memories, it came from the video."

I'd been furious up to that point, but there was something about that admission that made all my anger melt away - which of course, he felt.

"You are best," he insisted. "In a thousand years, there has been no-one like you, my love."

I couldn't hide how that made me feel from either of them, but there was no time to savor the moment.

"Frannie just pulled into the driveway," Quinn muttered, "too fucking fast as always."

For a moment I was amazed he could recognize the sound of his sister's driving in Amelia's car, but apparently no regular human would take a corner pulling onto gravel the way she just had and stay on the road; it took shifter reflexes, or at least something close.

"Then it is best that I leave," Eric announced. "Goodnight, love," he blew me a kiss, and then he was out my front door and gone.

"Flying must be so cool." My fiancé was jealous.

I elbowed him in the ribs gently. "You have planes!"

"Not the same. Must be so great, just being up in the air like that, with the wind on your skin…"

"It's really scary," I shook my head, thinking of flying out of the exploding building in Rhodes. Maybe people with super-healing and all that would find it fun, but I sure hadn't.

Amelia and Frannie tiptoed in a moment later, through the back door and down the hall to Hunter's room, where I 'heard' Frannie tucking my nephew into bed, via my fiancé's super-hearing. As he listened to his sister kiss her charge goodnight, he held me even tighter, his big, strong fingers playing with my new engagement ring. Then his lips started tracing the wound on my neck, so by the time Amelia and Frannie reached my living room, I was squirming on his lap again, with my eyes closed and my head lolling back in pleasure. I was getting less self-conscious about his very public displays of affection, but still, after a couple of seconds I pulled myself together, trying to look respectable. I almost wriggled out of his lap, but then I realized how obvious the bulge in his jeans would be if I did and decided I should protect his (nonexistent) modesty by staying exactly where I was.

"Well, someone had a good night," my roommate teased, expecting me to blush.

"A really good night," I agreed, first brushing my hair away from my neck to show the bite mark there, then holding out my left hand to show off my engagement ring.

"Ohmigod!" Frannie squealed, bouncing around delightedly. "Omigod, omigod! About time, you guys!"

I 'heard' Amelia's shock about it all though; she didn't think I was the type of woman who'd want all that came with being marked as a shifter's mate.

"It's not like that," I sighed, glaring at her. "I marked him first. It doesn't mean what it usually means. If people treat me differently, that's their problem, not mine. A shifter can't make a slave of a fairy, no matter what they do."

"OK," she smiled, finally happy for me. "If you're sure this is right for you, then congratulations."

She took my still-outstretched hand to inspect the ring, raised an eyebrow as she mentally rattled off the same jewelry store lingo Angela Barclay had and tallied up what it must've cost, then figured 'high sixes' wasn't that much to Quinn anyway and grinned. A moment later she was pulling me off his lap for a hug, then squeezing the air out of my lungs as I laughed at her.

"Congratulations, bestie," she murmured in my ear. "You do look happy."

"I am," I whispered back. "Really happy."

She released me then, and the second she did, Frannie practically crash-tackled me in her excitement.

"Congratulations!" she yelled right in my ear. "I'm so happy for you both! When are you gonna start having -"

"Frannie!" Quinn interrupted her. "Not right now."

"But soon?" she checked, hoping her brother and I would have at least a dozen 'cubs' together - which meant we had to start right now so we'd have time, me being part-human and all. "I'll babysit for you, any time you want some time alone so you can make some more -"

"Hey, stop it! You'll get your nieces and nephews when she's ready. You know that humans wait a year or two before they start trying, and that's after they're actually married, so don't hassle her about it. You've got Hunter now, isn't that enough?"

"One nephew?" she huffed. "Like that's enough for you, either."

He let out a long sigh, and when he looked up at her again, he had that expression on his face that said he was completely naked.

"You know I'd given up on ever finding my mate and having cubs of my own," his voice was soft and gentle, but there was an odd mix of hurt and resolve just under the surface, "so even being able to raise Hunter as my own is an honor. But beyond that... she only wants two or three cubs. Sorry," he glanced at me momentarily, "children. So that's what we'll have. Please, don't put pressure on her to do anything she doesn't want, OK?"

"You'll change your mind," she turned to me, ignoring her brother. "It won't be all awful like when humans breed, how the women think they're fat and the men won't have sex with them any more. The way that shifters do it..." Her voice suddenly got all wistful. "I would kill to have my mate on his knees every day, kissing every inch of my belly as it filled up with his cubs... and fingering me 'til my body would open right up whenever he touched me... and playing with my nipples for hours and hours to make it easier when I started feeding... don't you want him to do all that for you?"

I didn't know what to say to that. Sure, the way shifters handled pregnancy, birth and having a new 'cub' did sound like a lot of fun... but I wasn't sure I was ready yet... and even if I was ready, I still felt odd discussing my sex life in such detail with my mate's kid sister. I shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, trying to figure out what to say, my hands fidgeting with one another as I did.

"Frannie," my mate rumbled, "you of all people know what happens when women are forced to have kids they don't want. Don't you dare put my mate in that position."

It was an incredibly low blow, reminding his sister that their mother hadn't really wanted her, and of all the things their mother had done to her over the years because of that. He felt like he had to protect me though, because left to her own devices, his sister would pressure me almost endlessly until I gave in and had a few cubs. In his mind, he was defending my right to choose what happened to my own body... but I still thought he'd gone too far.

"OK, OK," she agreed, fighting back tears.

I pulled her to me for one more hug, hoping I could make her feel better - but her body went completely stiff, defensive against me.

"I only asked because fairies don't make their family wait for -"

"Hey, quit it!" he snapped, and finally she did.

We hugged for a few seconds longer, but as we did, I 'heard' her brain go down an altogether different path, mentally chiding herself that she would scare me off, and then this engagement would end just like…

I let go of her abruptly and turned to my mate, so shocked it felt like my eyebrows had shot up above my hairline. "You've been engaged before?" I demanded. "_Twice?" _I could hear the fury in my voice.

"You didn't tell her about that?" his sister checked. "Don't you ever tell her about -"

"Frannie!" he growled. "Just go. Now."

My roomie dragged her from the room, muttering that they had to get 'her room' ready anyway as she pulled the half-willing half-shifter out towards the staircase. She was using all her strength and a bit of witchy power as well, and still only just managing it.

I glared at my fiancé, waiting for some kind of explanation.


	64. Past

_A/N: Sorry about the delay; this was a tough chapter to write. Hope it's worth the wait! ;)_

* * *

"It's not as bad as it sounds," Frannie called around the door-frame, pulling away from Amelia to poke her head back into my living room. She was thinking, _How the hell will he talk his way out of this when he barely speaks at all?,_ so she had decided to 'help' her brother by explaining that, "Amara was his half-sister 'cause there's so few weretigers around she was the only mate our goddam mother could find for him, and Karen was a total fucking gold-digger who cheated on him the whole time. It's not like he -"

"Frannie!" Quinn snarled at her. "Just go. You've done enough already."

The glare he gave her actually made me feel sorry for her for a second — she really hadn't been trying to cause him trouble — but as she let Amelia drag her out of the room and up the stairs, I was suddenly alone with my fiancé... and one more of his many secrets.

"You were engaged to your own half-sister?" I didn't mean to sound judgmental, but somehow it happened anyway.

"I didn't know she was my half-sister! My damn mother left that detail out until after I'd completely humiliated myself at my own mating ceremony, by not being able to do it because she smelled wrong."

"Oh."

"And yes, I probably should've told you before, but…" he trailed off, looking embarrassed. I 'heard' that about the last thing he wanted to talk to me about was his last mating ceremony, when he'd completely failed in his 'manly duties' in front of the assembled crowd.

I knew I should be mad at him for not mentioning it earlier, but between the sheepish look on his face and the few sad images I'd caught of the event in question, I was starting to see the amusing side of it.

"So you never had sex with her?" I checked, biting my tongue so I wouldn't start laughing.

"No, thank god. We tried kissing a couple times, and even that felt weird."

"But if you weren't interested in her sexually, why did you ask her to marry you?" I couldn't imagine him agreeing to a lifelong relationship that didn't involve sex, any more than I would.

"Oh, I didn't. We were going to be mated, not married. Working out whether someone's your mate… it's not a big elaborate proposal like humans do. What you and I did is pretty normal, you just discuss it and if it feels right, you try to hold a mating ceremony to see if it works. They're usually a Pack thing so if it doesn't work out, it's not a big deal… my Mom had a lot to do with so many people being there. How she could set me up like that…" he stopped talking then, radiating pain and shame.

"What did she do?" I sat down beside him again on the couch.

I wasn't mad at all any more, but I wasn't seeing the funny side of it, either. It clearly pained him to talk about this, and if I was really honest, there were still a few things I couldn't bring myself talk to him about, either. We'd only been back together for a short time, and if it took him a little longer to open up to me about everything, I figured that was probably reasonable.

"She returned from one of her disappearing acts and told me she'd found my mate," he began. "Which sounded great because I still hadn't worked out where I fit in the world, after getting out of the pits and all, and twenty's a real good age to be mated." He saw the look I was giving him and hastily added, "Well, if you're a shifter, it's considered a good age. And I met Amara and she really was as incredible as my Mom said — sweet and smart and strong and stunning, plus a weretiger, which is amazing enough all by itself — and from the first time I met her, she felt like family to me. So I figured that was what it must be like when you meet your mate. So we bought a house to live in, and I started learning Spanish so she wouldn't have to speak English all the time, but I only ever wanted to touch her the way I touch my Mom or Frannie, so we just kept putting things off 'til the ceremony, and then… well, nothing worked. And there were hundreds of people there, wanting to witness the famous pit fighter's mating ceremony," he spat out the last few words.

"How did you find out she was your half-sister?"

He sighed loudly. "A few months later, someone in her village let it slip that she'd had an older brother who was killed by the local panthers when she was only a couple months old. Her parents hadn't ever told her because they couldn't bear to talk about him, which I guess I understand. So she realized her parents must've found a progenitor so they could have her, and there were literally only two adult male weretigers in North America at the time, as far as anyone knew: my father and hers.

"I was so relieved when I heard… suddenly the whole thing actually seemed OK, that I hadn't been physically able to… god, if I had done it… I wonder when my mother would've told me, after the third miscarriage? The tenth? Or maybe we would've found out when one of the cubs had something really wrong with them… It was bad enough what she did to Amara and I, but doing that to her own grandkids…"

I hadn't ever thought of that aspect of it before: the risks a family took for the next generation, if they didn't give their children accurate information about who they were related to. Some of the town's older families had long preferred to intermarry rather than consider outsiders, but after a few generations, there were more people in those families with serious health problems than those without. Quinn had told me that by the logic in places like Hotshot, interbreeding amongst a small group over many generations let you get rid of all the 'flaws' in their DNA eventually… but if the number of miscarriages and people with problems out there were any indication, I wasn't sure it was working.

Then I had a sudden, painful realization: because I was telepathic and knew things I really didn't want to, my fairy godmother duties in this town were going to have to include some conversations that no-one else was willing to have.

"Fuck," I muttered.

My fiancé stared at me in shock; he had never heard me cuss before. Not when I got hurt; not when I was angry; not when something stunned me…

"There's a couple in town who are about to get married," I explained. "The guy's mother never told him his father isn't really his father, it's a big secret… And it's not quite as bad as what happened to you, but his genetic father is his fiancée's half-brother… her mother had a kid when she was fourteen who the family pretended was her grandmother's child instead, raised him as her mother's kid brother… and the guy's mother had a one-night stand with his fiancée's 'uncle' who's really her half-brother… but his mother just pretended he was her husband's kid, even though he has these dark, almost black eyes that no-one else in their family has… I have to go tell them, don't I?"

He nodded. "They're too closely related; she's pretty much his aunt. There's too much chance their kids'll get some nasty rare gene from both of them and have major problems. If they're lucky, the child won't make it to term; it'll either stop developing partway through or the mother's body will detect the problems and abort it."

"I don't know anyone who's had a miscarriage who'd say they're _lucky_," I snapped.

"I know it's really hard if people wanted a kid… hell, even if the kid was a 'surprise', it must be hard to lose it… but if you're gonna combine random halves of two different people's genes, sometimes it works great, and sometimes it doesn't," he shrugged. "I know it sucks, but short of just cloning the people whose genes do work, it's part of the deal."

"I don't want that part of the deal." My voice was suddenly trembling.

"Well, I'm pretty sure we're genetically compatible," he stroked my hand. "Neither of us mask our body's natural scent much, and you're not on any hormones that trick your body into thinking you're pregnant and tell you to seek out people who smell similar to you to keep your cubs safe. So we shouldn't be high risk for that."

I just rolled my eyes at him. "I don't think you can predict that just by smelling each other."

"You can. Anyone who's genetically different enough to be a good mate smells sexy, and anyone who's really similar smells kinda like home. I'd put money on it that in that couple you mentioned, she's on the Pill and neither of them much enjoy tasting each other. And that they both wash obsessively and drown themselves in weird synthetic flower scent or whatever some ad said is attractive."

"I am so not looking forward to that conversation," I sighed. "Neither of them will want to hear it. They're both the kind who pretend their family is the only one that doesn't have secrets or problems… Ugh."

"You're not doing it for them," he reminded me. "You're doing it for their potential kids."

"So they don't get conceived," I shook my head. "Some favor I'm doing them."

"You are," he reassured me. "Not everyone is thankful they were born."

"I don't even know if I can do it," I confessed. "It's gonna be so hard."

"I'll come with you," he took my hand.

"So you can ask if she's on the pill and if they like going down on each other?" I arched an eyebrow at him.

"If you want," he chuckled. "How much are we betting?" He paused for a moment, before finally winking to me show he was joking. "Seriously though, I'd offer to go along for moral support even if I wasn't worried about your safety right now…" He was trying not to say, 'I have to go, I'm your bodyguard as well as your boyfriend, remember?'

I appreciated it; I wanted my life to feel normal, and I liked that he respected that.

"And I didn't just mean going down on each other. If someone's too similar, the taste of their saliva when you kiss them is all wrong, and licking their skin just doesn't taste arousing at all… And here I thought I was fixated on sex," he teased.

I was thinking about something else, though. "If weretigers are so rare that the only mate your Mom could find for you was your half-sister," I began warily, "don't you want to be with someone you can make actual cubs with? Help keep your species alive, and all that?"

"Hell no!" he exclaimed. "I want to be with you, not anyone else. I got clear of my breeding obligations years ago; you don't have to worry about all that." He didn't want to talk about what he'd had to do to be released from his obligation to continue his species; I could feel that. "I figured out a long time ago that my fated mate isn't a tiger like me... went everywhere tigers still live in the wild looking for her, had the witches at work try to figure out if my mate was hiding in a city somewhere... and for a long time I just figured, maybe someone like me doesn't get a mate; just doesn't deserve that. So all of this... getting a telepathic fairy princess for my mate instead..." he was getting that over-awed, 'how the heck did I end up with you?' expression again, which just made me uncomfortable.

"And the other time you got engaged," I changed the subject, "it was that red-haired Victoria's Secret model who was cheating on you?"

I heard a loud snort behind me, and then Frannie appeared beside the couch to inform me that, "She did one catalog, once, and it wasn't even the grown-up stuff 'cos she hadn't had her breast implants done yet. She was like fifteen, and she was such a pain to work with that they never hired her again, but she still tells anyone who asks her what she does for a living, 'oh, I model for Victoria's Secret', and it's such BS, she gets all her money by dating rich guys who are stupid enough to fall for her routine and-"

My mate didn't bother snapping at her this time, already knowing it wouldn't shut her up: now that his sister had decided I was OK, I was on the very short list of people she could talk to — even if she had friends at boarding school, she could never reveal much about her life to humans — and she was taking full advantage of that… but she didn't seem to consider how her revelations might effect her brother's life.

"How did you get in here?" I interrupted, wondering how she'd managed to sneak back in when we could see both doors.

"Window," my mate muttered. "Should've known to keep my back to a solid wall when she's around."

Evidently the stealthy tiger genes had been passed on to his sister intact, despite her non-shifter genetic father.

"He didn't even realize she was playing him," Frannie continued. "I had to stop her selling all the furniture in the house. She told him she'd given it all to charity to 'get the place ready for kids' but really these friends of hers were flogging it to their clients. He didn't even realize the stupid fussy antiques that decorator bought were worth anything — and he's the one who paid for them all! He just thought they were crap 'cos he didn't fit in most of the chairs and the ones he did fit in couldn't take his weight and he broke them, and -"

"Frannie," I interrupted her, "I think Amelia might need a hand setting up your room upstairs."

I had 'heard' that Amelia offered her sitting room upstairs for my mate's sister to stay in — the couch she had up there folded out into a double bed — and was trying to tactfully get her to shut up and leave before she shared any more of her brother's past with me.

She missed the point entirely, cocking her head for a second to listen to what was going on up there, then telling me, "No, Amelia's fine, she's in her own room getting changed. My room's all set up. I did that before I climbed down the front of the house to check you were OK."

I gave my fiancé a sympathetic glance, but he was staring at his feet now, silently calling himself a moron.

"I was the one who figured out she was cheating on him, too," his sister proudly added, plonking down on the couch. "I overheard her on the phone to some other guy when I was in her closet getting this skirt she bought with his credit card, and they agreed to meet and I followed her and got photos and everything, and he still didn't want to believe me even after I showed him. I don't know how he couldn't smell that guy all over her, even I could smell him, and I'm not -"

"I could smell it," he wearily protested, "I just wanted to give her a chance to explain, there might have been a reasonable -"

"Oh right," his sister scoffed, rolling her eyes at him, "a reasonable explanation for having some human's sperm all over half her body? It's not like having a few drops of that anti-coagulant stuff vampires have instead of saliva on the back of her hand like Sookie's got now, or the vampire blood on her fingers and jeans, though why you two had some vampire over here after your mating ceremony I don't know, and why did you let her shower afterwards and wash your scent off her? You know you shouldn't -"

"Frannie, go to bed," I told her quietly.

To her brother's shock, she stood up right away. "I'm doing that thing where I say too much, aren't I? Amelia said you guys talk heaps so I should shut up and let him tell you stuff in his own time."

I could 'hear' how much that surprised her; she hadn't ever known her brother to talk much to anyone about anything… so much so that when she found out that he was seeing a therapist, she'd teased him about how much he was paying 'per word', because she thought he'd say maybe a hundred words in an hour-long session — roughly the same as he ever said to her. They had a lifelong routine where she talked endlessly to him because she had nobody else she could tell about most of the things that had happened in her life, but he said very little back because he rarely felt sure that he knew the right thing to say. Thankfully, he didn't feel like he had to always say the right thing to me.

I went over to her and took her hand. "Your brother does talk to me," I reassured her. "More than he's ever talked to anyone, including that therapist he went to for a few years. You don't need to do it for him." I released her hand then.

"OK, well, goodnight. And he's not always an idiot, he just really wanted to settle down and have cubs so he wanted to believe anyone who -"

"Goodnight, Frannie," I finished for her.

She looked surprised for a moment, then realized she'd been saying too much again, mouthed 'sorry' to me and left… or almost left, anyway.

"It was that blonde one, wasn't it?" she turned back around in the doorway to ask, not waiting for a reply. "OK, I totally get why you had _that_ vampire over, he can totally come over any time. Especially if all his clothes get lost or torn off or something."

She took in the looks both her brother and I were giving her for all of a split-second before loudly thinking, _Wow, really not allowed to say that!_ and disappearing from the room, faster and more quietly than I previously would've thought possible.

"We really have to keep her away from vampires, huh?" I half-joked, but my mate didn't laugh.

I turned back to him and found him staring at his hands, which were folded in front of him. He was leaning on his elbows, which rested on his knees, and he looked as miserable as I'd ever seen him. He knew it was wrong that I'd just heard about that particular part of his past from someone else, and was trying to think of a way to apologize adequately.

Our eyes met a moment later, and when he saw that I wasn't seething with rage, he decided he should try to explain what happened back then; why he'd gotten engaged once before, and why he hadn't ended up going through with the wedding.

"Karen really was mostly interested in money," he admitted, trying to keep his voice steady, "or the status and security she thought it would give her, anyway. Not that she told me that, of course… she went to a lot of effort to seem like the sort of woman I'd want to be with, and I wanted so much for her to be what she seemed that I just ignored all the things that didn't add up. When someone sets their sights on you like that… when they want something from you badly enough to pretend to love you… I don't know if you can even imagine…"

"I know what it's like," I reminded him, feeling pain I'd known myself all over again through him.

He looked puzzled for a moment, then briefly recalled what he knew of my relationship history, getting only to my very first before he realized what I meant. "Oh." He was suddenly grateful that while he'd been lied to and tricked by someone who was only interested in what they could get from him, at least they hadn't had him almost beaten to death, or stood by and watched while someone he loved was killed.

I didn't consciously decide to walk over to him, or sit on his lap, or press my body up against his; it was like I'd somehow been reprogrammed to automatically go to him when I needed comfort, without even thinking it through first.

"Imprinting," he murmured into my hair, wrapping his arms around me. "Sorry, I was only thinking about myself then, I didn't even consider what you've been through."

I wasn't surprised that he'd 'heard' what I was thinking; it just seemed natural now for him to be in my head, the same way I was in his.

"But you're not," he disagreed. "All you'd have to do is poke around a little, and you'd see everything… if you really wanted to know…"

I shook my head against him as he spoke, then pulled back just far enough that I could look him in the eye. "You keep those memories shielded so I can't see them."

"Yeah, but you could push right through my shields if you wanted."

"I wouldn't do that to you. Forcing my way into someone's memories… I couldn't hurt you like that."

"OK," he sighed. "I get that. But you could still just ask someone. None of this is secret, everyone knows my past."

"Except me."

He was about to say something about that being a good thing — that he loved that I saw him only as he is now, so he was finally able to have a relationship free from all the baggage from his past, without having to constantly lie about who he is the way he had to with humans — when he saw the look on my face and realized how much his secrecy was hurting me. For an instant he wanted to tell me everything, to confide things he'd never said aloud before, but then his fear of being dragged back into the life he'd once had took over again.

"You expect me to hear about you from other people," I challenged him. "You like that you don't have to talk about it."

He started, thought about it for a moment, then realized I was right. "I've never had to, and I don't really want to start," he admitted. "But that's not right, is it? If I don't ever tell you… it'll end up like what you had to do with Bill tonight."

I just nodded.

"OK." He was already considering how to tell me about all the things that had happened between when he got out of the pits, a horribly scarred almost-eighteen year old boy with no home to return to, and when I met him, a successful, confident 33 year old man whose wealth and status were entirely self-made. A lot had happened in those fifteen years, some of which he had never spoken to anyone about.

"Take as long as you need," I offered. "You don't have to tell me everything right away; I'll give you as long as I can to figure it all out."

But we both knew that wasn't something I had to give: with his sister around, I would soon hear it all, whether he wanted me to or not.


End file.
